Draco: Opera of Love
by Bra1n1ac
Summary: Draco of the West is engaged in a terrible war for the fate of his country, but for the sake of his beloved Maria, he can never surrender.  Based on the FFVI - FFIII Opera.
1. Chapter 1: Flowers

Note; This story is based on events chronicled in the Opera of Draco and Maria; at least part of which was seen during Final Fantasy VI (or III in America.) Celes took upon herself the role of Maria for the purpose of protecting the real actress from abduction, and sang beautifully in the game's now-famous "opera scene." However, I've seen very little fanfiction about Draco and Maria, so I decided that I should be the first to tell their story in full. Thank you for joining us.

* * *

Draco; Opera of Love

Chapter 1; Flowers

* * *

Draco looked out over the horizon carefully, watching the enemy troops move back and forth in tight formations. There were certainly a great many of them; maybe tens of thousands. It was difficult to tell just how many from where he was. However, one thing Draco did know when he saw that enemy force; that even if the Garou's army could enlist the help of every able-bodied man in three townships, they'd still be outnumbered two to one.

It was enough to make Draco sweat; seeing those mighty odds against them, but it wasn't enough to make him give up, because nothing in the world could have induced him to do that. Draco had a great reason for never being willing to surrender; perhaps a better reason than any other man in the world.

Even as he watched the enemy, however, Draco knew that in spite of their vast numbers, he really had a lot to be thankful for. For one thing, he hadn't been spotted. If any of the enemy had noticed him, after all, that would have been a disaster. Still, he could hardly help but feel sad, in spite of the good fortune that he'd encountered thus far. The constant longing that he felt wasn't something that he could simply dismiss.

Just as those thoughts passed through his head, however, Draco saw something that struck mortal terror into his heart. Three of the enemy's chocobo knights had turned, and were headed in his direction. Worse yet, they'd obviously spotted him, which must have been why they were spurring their mounts onward; charging in his direction with deliberate speed.

For a moment, Draco's mind began to race, as he struggled to consider his options. In heavy armor like his, it would have been impossible to flee. It would have been impossible anyway, since no human being could run with the speed of a chocobo. For a few moments, he thought about trying to fight those three, but even if he were able to defeat them in some manner, he suspected that their army would have missed them, and soon, he'd need to contend with thousands of the enemy, instead of just three. As he considered his options, Draco turned to run as quickly as he could, desperately hoping to buy himself more time.

Ultimately, Draco knew that he had no choice but to confront his enemies in some manner. They were about to collide with him in moments, and if he wanted to survive, he needed to do something. As good a fighter as he was, he knew that he wasn't sufficient to the task of defeating a whole army by himself, but as far as he could tell, there was only one other way of escaping from that situation, and it was going to involve a lot of risk.

Moving as quickly as he could, Draco kept one eye out for his pursuers, watching as they drew closer and closer with the pounding of bird-feet behind him; his heartbeat rising as he moved. If there'd been any sort of cover nearby, he would naturally have gone for it, but unfortunately, he suspected that was the very reason why the eastern armies had chosen that spot to make camp. There was nothing but a bare, open plain for miles, making it almost impossible for even a clever scout to approach undetected.

At last, when the chocobos were a mere ten yards behind him, Draco made his gamble, intentionally falling prostrate to the ground; his eyes only open enough to see the enemy still advancing on him, and one hand on his sword, just in case.

Soon, the mighty legs of one of the chocobos had reached him, colliding hard with his own left leg, and badly bruising some of his muscles. It hurt as badly as most sword-wounds, because of the sheer strength of the bird's feet, but nonetheless, that was the moment of truth. Draco continued to lay on the ground, doing his best to go limp, as he impersonated a dead body. The knights might not fall for his trick, of course, but if they tried to turn and attack him again, he was prepared to defend himself.

However, it seemed that Draco's luck was holding out, because the knights made no attempt to turn back and face him; merely continuing on to the west for several dozen yards, then taking different paths to the north and south; almost as if they'd failed to see him at all, or as if their own mission didn't allow them to slow down; even for an enemy scout. Draco was too tired to really wonder what the mission of those knights might have been, but he could tell that he'd had a very close shave that time. If they'd been even a little more cautious around him, he knew that he wouldn't have survived until sunset, and that was an idea that sent a chill up his spine; not just for his own sake, but for the sake of his beloved Maria.

In that moment, as he lay on the ground, hoping that the enemy army would forget about him, Draco's thoughts returned to the time when he'd last looked into the eyes of the woman he loved; the woman who, even to that day, he couldn't bare the thought of losing; the noble lady who'd shown him such mercy and love, that it had, for the first time, made him want to do the same for her.

* * *

At the time, Draco had been a mere captain in the king's army, and his armor had been lighter and less effective. Still, he'd done much to prove himself to King John, and from years of faithful service, he'd earned the right to enter into the courtyard of the castle; a place normally reserved for royalty.

At that time, Draco had been having a very difficult day. He'd woken up late, and made a bad impression on two knights and the lords of three western territories, which was bound to have repercussions. It had made him feel like a terrible failure; horribly embarrassed in every sense. There was no way, he knew, that he could completely recover, after having made such a fool of himself in front of so many important people.

That was why, that afternoon, Draco found himself stomping angrily around the royal gardens; his heavy, steel-plated boots making clanking noises on the cobblestones, or loud thuds on the soft dirt. It wasn't the first time that Draco's feelings had ever really gotten the better of him, because after all, he was a very passionate man, but in that moment, he barely even thought about the plants that he was crushing under his feet from time to time. After all, they weren't human, and didn't have rights, so their broken stems and lost petals didn't register in his mind. All he was thinking about, at the time, was how miserable he felt, and how nothing could possibly feel worse than what he'd been going through. In his eyes, even a battle would have been a welcome relief from the horrible embarrassment of his own social failures at court.

However, even as Draco was thinking that it would be impossible to feel any worse, he heard a gasp of shock and dismay, and looked up from his pacing, to see a sight that made him feel the worst emotion that he'd ever felt.

The whole garden was enclosed by large, stone walls, and a couple sets of stairs led to doorways that opened into upper-level rooms of the castle's keep. Draco had entered the garden from the ground-level, oaken doors to the south. In fact, most people entered and left that way, so he hadn't noticed the woman who was walking down the flat, stone steps into the garden until the moment when he'd heard her gasp. Nevertheless, she was quite a sight to behold.

The young woman was beautiful beyond comparison. Her nose was short, but not pointed, her eyes were large and bright, and her lips small, but very enchanting for that very reason. She had golden blond hair, which flowed over her shoulders and back, all the way down to her skirt. She had a dark green ribbon in her hair as well, and her dress was absolutely magnificent.

The girl's dress began about an inch down from the base of her neck; just sufficient for the sake of her obvious modesty and innocence, and clung to her upper body as tightly as a glove, until it reached her shoulders and waist. The shoulders of her dress were large and beautiful; almost the size of a knight's helmet each, though they were clearly stuffed with some manner of fabric or cotton, to keep them from drooping when she moved her arms. Below the shoulders, the fabric of her dress covered her arms very tightly; leaving just enough space for her to bend them freely.

Down past the girl's waist, however, was her skirt, which spread out all around her like one of the finest ballroom gowns. Its silky fabric seemed to almost flow as she took one careful step after another down the short, stone staircase, and the dress itself was so long, that her legs and feet were nearly always impossible to see.

What really stunned Draco about the young lady's dress, however, was that the type of fabric used to make it was of a very uncommon color for a leisure dress; even among royalty. It was definitely a green color of some sort, but it was such a light kind of green, that it could have easily been mistaken for a pearly white dress from a distance.

Still, Draco had seen many women at court who were beautiful, and wore elegant dresses. What truly made that girl stand out above every other girl he'd ever met was the look of true innocence that she wore on her face.

Most of the woman who Draco had met were either overtly ambitious, excessively-vane, or extremely self-absorbed and rude, to the point or treating with derision everything that they found uninteresting. Many women, of course, claimed to desire greater rights in polite society, but very few among the aristocracy seemed to actually want the one right that was most important; the right to be loving towards others. The girl in the garden, however, clearly didn't have that problem. Even as she glanced back and forth across the flowers, surveying the damage that Draco had recently done, there wasn't a single sign of genuine anger on her face; just a look of terrible hurt and sadness over what had just happened, as if, for that moment, Draco himself didn't even exist.

Soon, the girl lifted the front of her dress to keep from tripping as she descended the remainder of the stone steps at almost a sprint. She looked, for a moment, as if she was going to fall, in spite of her caution, but finally, she made it to the ground and started rushing back and forth among the flowers, looking sadly at each one that had been broken or damaged in some manner; especially the purple and red ones in the center, which Draco had been pacing around more than once, he was ashamed to admit.

At last, however, after burying many of the broken flowers in the soil, the girl stood back up to her full height; her skirt seeming to grow broader, the closer she was to standing upright, and at that point, she stared directly into Draco's face, looking even sadder than before. The sight of all that sadness in the face of one so pure and innocent nearly broke Draco's heart, even before she spoke to him aloud.

"Have I done something to offend you? Why are you punishing me?"

None of those words were spoken in anger, however, which only made them hurt even more. They sounded more like a plea than a demand, and that hurt Draco much worse than any reprimand she could have leveled at him.

"I... I never meant to punish you, milady." Draco insisted quickly, hoping that he could make her understand, "I've never even met you before. In fact, I can't imagine wanting to hurt you. It's only that I was so upset. So many horrible things happened to me today, and... I didn't realize these flowers were yours to tend. I apologize."

For a few moments, the girl almost looked as if she was going to cheer up, but at last, she said, "I wish I could do something to help, but I'm afraid I don't have much influence in the kingdom yet. Still, I... I mean, I know it's difficult, but you... you shouldn't damage these flowers, just because you're feeling angry."

"I know." Draco just replied, "There's no excuse for what I did. I'm sorry."

For a few moments, the two just continued looking at each other, neither one sure what to say next. At last, however, Draco gathered up his courage, and decided that he had to say something, even if it meant giving that girl the power to do some real damage to him in court.

"My name's Draco. I'm a captain in the army."

It was only at that point that the girl seemed to cheer up, because she was starting to look up into his eyes a little more, ignoring the flowers that still surrounded them, and the edges of her mouth were turning up in a sort of half-smile. Clearly, there was something about that situation that she liked.

"In that case, you must be very talented and well-respected." the girl noted aloud, "Most captains wouldn't be permitted to enter the royal gardens alone."

For a moment, Draco started to feel embarrassed and helpless, because he could see that the girl knew more about the world outside of her garden than she'd seemed to at first, and she only confirmed that with the next thing she said to him.

"I'm glad you were willing to tell me your name. It proves that you trust me."

Once again, that girl had displayed yet another feat of deduction, which most of the ladies at court wouldn't have even attempted. Still, she seemed to care much more about how Draco felt than they did, which was a new experience for him. In a way, he wasn't sure what to think, until she introduced herself as well.

"I'm Princess Maria Johnson of Garou; throne castle of the west."

For the third time in as many sentences, however, Maria had managed to shock Draco to his very core. He'd never suspected that that young girl might have been the princess herself. In fact, considering her incredible beauty of both body and spirit, he was starting to wonder if the king had been out of his mind to keep her away from the royal court for so long.

However, the more he thought about it, the more Draco began to understand the king's great wisdom with respect to the way that he'd chosen to raise his daughter. The royal court, after all, was a place for the powerful to speak, form alliances and gather greater power for themselves; often at the expense of others. There was more corruption in the court than in nearly any other place in the kingdom, in spite of his majesty's best efforts. Greed and selfishness were common things among the aristocracy, and even if the king had made no effort to protect his daughter from that kind of corruption, Draco suspected that she would have avoided the royal court of her own free will. She was just too pure to really want to be part of something like that, no matter what was at stake.

Still, he realized, the princess had responsibilities, and she couldn't avoid them for all the purity and kindness in the world. One day, she'd have to grow up. It was tragic in a lot of ways, but it was the truth of the world.

"I only wish that more people at court were like you, princess." Draco blurted out before he could stop himself, but fortunately, the princess seemed to have taken his compliment well. She smiled happily for a few moments, obviously delighted by his reaction. However, that delight, predictably, couldn't last forever. She was still surrounded by the dying remains of many of the flowers that she'd once taken such good care of, and no compliment of any sort could really change that fact.

"I'd love to see you again sometime." the princess said at last, though she wasn't smiling as she spoke, "but I'm afraid that now might not be the best time to talk. These flowers aren't just mine, and I think I should probably try to put things back to the way they were."

"Listen, if you need help..." Draco suggested, but it was an empty suggestion, and he knew it. He knew absolutely nothing about botany, or even practical gardening. Maria seemed to have realized that about him, though, because she just smiled weakly, recognizing his offer, but not accepting it.

"That's quite alright." the princess replied after just a moment, "As long as you're careful around the flowers from now on, you'll be helping me enough."

Draco didn't quite feel like that was sufficient, but he didn't want to risk getting into an argument with her, so in spite of the sad expressions that had spread across both of their faces again, he turned to leave.

Of course, the encounter would have left its mark on Draco, even if that had been the end of it, but just as he was about to pass back out through the gate he'd entered by, he heard her voice again; still as heart-wrenching as before.

"Draco... There's one other thing."

Slowly, Draco turned around to face her one last time, and found, to his surprise, that she wasn't making him feel miserable anymore, because just as he faced her, a beautiful flower collided softly with his chest.

In a moment, Draco seized the stem of the flower that the princess had just thrown to him, once again stunned, and not sure what to make of the gesture. For a second or two, he suspected that she'd given him a dead flower to throw away when he left, or to remind him of what he'd done to so many flowers there, but as he examined the small, purple flower more closely, he discovered that it was in nearly perfect condition. The petals were all firmly attached and the stem wasn't twisted or bent. In fact, the only thing about it that was imperfect was that it was no longer rooted to the ground. Draco was speechless as he looked back into the face of the princess again, hoping for some kind of explanation. She'd seemed so upset when he'd stomped all over her flowers, and it certainly hadn't been a very nice thing to do, but then, without any hesitation at all, she'd picked out a perfect, purple blossom, just to give it to him. He couldn't understand.

Fortunately, though, Maria seemed to have understood the puzzled look on Draco's face, because in just a moment, she gave him her explanation.

"A candle maker has a right to be sad when someone breaks into his shop and burns all his candles all the way down to the bottom for no reason," Maria said, "but that doesn't mean that candles aren't meant to burn. These flowers are the same way. They're delicate and fragile, and even in the best seasons, they don't last very long. I know they'll live and die quickly, no matter what I do, but if they can serve their purpose before that happens; if they can bring people joy, then I don't have any reason to be sad, or to feel like my work was wasted. This is the purpose of the flower garden, Draco. Take it and enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Good-bye."

Then, bending carefully over the cloth folds in her skirt, Maria began to bury damaged flowers, and straighten others, and from that point on, Draco knew that no matter what, he could never be satisfied until he became a knight. However, his reasoning was much different than it had once been. He didn't care about the armor, or the weapons, or even the position of authority or glory anymore. The only thing that mattered to him at that point was that if he ever became Sir Draco of the West, then he would be a true nobleman, and only by becoming a nobleman would he ever be allowed to marry a princess. It was a big dream, perhaps, but from then on, Draco wanted nothing in the world, except the hand of the lovely Maria.

* * *

Even after nearly fifteen minutes of lying prostrate in the dirt, the enemy had made no attempt to pursue Draco, or even to investigate whether he was alive or dead, which gave him fresh hope that he might yet survive the day. Slowly, he started to clamber to his feet, and retreat the way he'd come, hoping that he wouldn't be spotted by anyone else until he'd made it back to camp to make his report to the general. It was a hope which, like all of his other recent hopes, was founded in that one great dream; to return home to Garou as a great hero, and wed the fair Maria.

"Oh Maria! Oh Maria!" Draco recited to himself as he rushed back towards camp, encouraging himself onward with the one motive strong enough to make him face his fears once again, "Please, hear my voice! How I long to be with you!"


	2. Chapter 2: The Dance

Chapter 2: The Dance

* * *

"We can't make a move unless we know the location of the enemy base, and something about its layout, and that's where you come in." General Han explained to one of his commanders, "I need you to send some scouts to the northeast, to determine the precise location of the enemy base, and then return here with their report. This is probably the most important job we'll have in this campaign, so don't pick some cadet. I want a real veteran to do this."

Commander Banning was starting to look antsy, however, and in a moment, he said, "Sir, you might as well ask me to execute one of them."

"What was that?" The general asked, suddenly looking derisively at the commander. For a moment, Banning looked deeply apologetic, but finally, he chose to explain himself, instead of backing down.

"Sir, from everything we've heard, the armies of the East are much more numerous, and have far greater wealth than we do, which means they'll be better-armed, and they might even have some advanced means of detecting our forces when they approach. If I send a scout out there, he won't come back."

"Are you trying to tell me that it's impossible to scout the enemy base?" The general asked angrily, but on that point, Banning was absolutely certain.

"Sir, I'm trying to tell you that if we want to get information on the enemy, we have to be prepared for a fight. No one person can get in there alone and come back alive. That's just impossible."

"In that case," a familiar voice said from the entrance to the general's tent, "you'll have a hard time explaining what I've just been doing all morning."

At once, every head turned towards the tent flap, and there, they saw the man who'd gradually come to be known as the Hero of the West; Sir Draco of Garou. He was standing there, resting one arm on the nearest tent pole, and smiling broadly at the general and his commanders. There was more than arrogance to that smile, of course. Draco outranked most of them. In fact, he only really answered to the general himself, and of course, to the king, but it was still uncommon for him, or anyone, to barge into the general's tent during a conference.

"Draco!" the general exclaimed, though the dissatisfied look in his eyes didn't fade at all, "Are you telling me that you've scouted the enemy base?"

"Exactly." Draco replied, stepping a bit further into the tent, "I can tell you precisely where it is, a little about its layout, and the size of..."

However, just at that point, Sir Draco winced in agony, stumbling forward, as if he'd just lost all the strength in his left leg, and even though he'd just shown them up, two of the nearby commanders moved to help him at once. Soon, he was laying down, with his left leg on a cushion, starting to look a little pale. However, there was still a look of determination in his face, regardless. Sir Draco wasn't the kind of man to give up over one little injury. Still, that was the first thing that the general noticed as he walked towards the brave knight.

"How bad is it?"

"I'll survive." Draco replied quickly, "I can still give you the information you wanted."

For a few moments, the general seemed to be on the verge of objecting, but at last, he just nodded firmly. The war came first.

"There's tens of thousands of them." Draco began, "We're going to be outnumbered. They're about twenty-five miles due north of our own camp, and on top of that, it looked like their large weapons were stored in the middle of the camp. We wouldn't be able to get to them without plunging through half the army."

The news wasn't good by any means, but the general just nodded slowly, then turned back to his commanders at the table.

"In that case, the focus of our plan has to change. This means we won't have the chance to sabotage their large weapons from the start, but it also means that they won't get the chance to use them until about midway through the battle. We should plan our strategy around that."

* * *

The conference lasted for about another half hour after that. The first ten minutes were mainly to discuss tactics for the upcoming battle, while the remainder involved a lot of discussion of problems that the troops were having. At last, though, pretty much everything of any real importance seemed to have been addressed, and the conference came to an end. As the commanders filed slowly out of the tent, several of them cast glances of pity over at Draco. He didn't really care, though. There wasn't much room in his life for that kind of machismo.

The general, however, did more than just glance at him. Pretty soon, he was sitting on the floor of the tent, opposite Draco, and looking him in the eyes with a sort of puzzled expression. Draco could tell that the general wanted to ask him a question, but just wasn't sure where to begin. At last, however, he spoke up, looking both confused and impressed in a lot of ways.

"I'll never figure you out, Draco."

"I'm not that complicated." Draco just replied, smiling a little, in spite of the burning pain that was still coursing through his left leg.

"Nobody wants to be out here, in the middle of a war." the general continued, however, as if Draco hadn't even said anything, "You never know when, the very next day, your best friend might be dead, or you might be dead. War makes things seem awfully meaningless, and yet, you're out here, waltzing through the battlefield like it's a second home."

"I just do what I have to do for the West." Draco replied, but the general was already shaking his head.

"No, you don't. You do much more than you have to do, just like you did today. You weren't obligated to scout the enemy base. I mean, I didn't even ask you to. No one did, so why'd you do it?"

Draco sighed at that point, however. He had an explanation for that, but he wasn't sure the general would buy it.

"General, if we lose this war, there'll be nothing left for me. If our forces fail, and the west is conquered, then many of our people might be able to adapt, and live peacefully under eastern rule, but I couldn't."

"I can understand that." the general replied after a moment, "It's natural for a man to owe loyalty to the kingdom where he was knighted, but..."

"This isn't about my loyalty to my kingdom." Sir Draco interrupted, however, "If the East wins this war, something horrible is going to happen; something that would remove every possibility of joy and happiness from my life. Even the fall of Garou wouldn't be that terrible."

"I don't understand." the general admitted at last, however, "Does this have something to do with Maria's royal station? Are you afraid she'll lose it if the West falls?"

"No." Draco replied, however, "No matter who wins, she won't lose her royal station, but in a way, that's the problem."

"What?" the general just asked, looking more confused than ever, "I still don't understand at all, then."

"Well, it's kind of a long story." Draco admitted, but the general didn't seem put off by that. In fact, a moment later, he responded to his friend again.

"Go ahead. It'll take the troops a while to get ready for our next maneuver. I have time."

In a way, Draco had been hoping to avoid telling that story, because he didn't really feel like it would make much of a difference in terms of who won the war, but at last, with a sigh, he began to tell the general the truth.

* * *

The largest balcony of Castle Garou was several yards across, and was supported from underneath by stone pillars. It was a wide, strong platform, which was almost completely flat and smooth, and there was a good reason for that. It opened right up into the castle's main dance hall.

The dance hall was used for a number of different purposes; most of them social, by the kingdom's wealthy and powerful. It was the sort of place for parties and other official functions on the part of the royal family, and visiting lords, and of course, everyone of any importance was expected to attend those functions. Knights never lost their station, but they could still lose a lot of credibility if they ever gave the impression that they didn't care about the activities of the royalty.

Unfortunately, most of the duties that Draco had had since he'd been knighted had been for the purpose of bringing honor to his station, which was something that he just didn't see the point of. Knighthood, in his eyes, was more of a sacred duty to protect others than a job as a public figure. He'd tried talking to Maria about it, but she'd just said that if he wanted something out of life, he had to do what it took to get it, which was true. However, it hadn't made him feel any better, or absolved him of any of his responsibilities.

Of course, it was all worth it, in the end, because Draco's relationship with Maria had grown by leaps and bounds over the last few months. They'd spent quite a bit of time talking, and as they'd talked, Draco had gradually learned about Maria's interests, and the reasons why she acted the way she did. One thing that he'd been very curious about from the beginning was why she never seemed to get angry, and when she replied to him about that, her answer had given him a lot to think about.

"I get angry, Draco. It's just not always best to let people know everything I feel. You see, I've found that I get a lot more out of life if I try to be loving and good to everyone, and do the right thing for everyone I meet, so sometimes, I'm better off not letting everyone know how I feel. On the other hand, if I think that I can do someone some good by telling them about my feelings, or if they ask me directly about how I feel, then it's my duty to tell them the truth. It's really very uncomplicated, but it's not always easy either."

Those words had stuck with Draco at the time, though what she'd really meant had mostly gone over his head. Still, in spite of all that talk about love and goodness, he'd never really expected her to show up at any formal functions, and because of that, what he saw that night really took his breath away.

It was early in the evening, and the pink light of the setting sun was spreading out across the castle's dance hall, as well as the dozens of knights and aristocrats who were gathered there. That night, nearly every powerful person in the kingdom had attended, because the dance being held just then was in honor of a visiting ruler on a diplomatic errand to Garou; King Fannis of the East, and his son. From what Draco had heard, they were both powerful rulers, but he didn't know much else about them, and he'd never visited the country that they hailed from. The East honored a completely different form of government than Garou and its surrounding lands, so there was no real alliance of any sort between them, and rumors around the castle were that Fannis' visit had been intended to change that.

Draco didn't know whether those rumors were true or false, but he'd been expecting a large turnout at that dance, regardless, and sure enough, there was definitely a large crowd there; chatting, dancing and eating. He recognized most of the nobles in that hall, though he didn't know them all by name. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothes, and they were certainly a sight to behold under the light of the setting sun, and the torches that flanked the hall. The men were all dressed in tight-fitting suits, with buttons down the front, showing only a bit of the vests that they wore under their jackets, while the women all wore impressive ballroom gowns; as beautiful as they were eye-catching, and each one unique in its own way. Some had more bows, some none, some with puffy sleeves, and others with loose sleeves. One; belonging to the Countess of Menton, even contained an extra piece of cloth that covered the whole front of her upper body. Each person looked distinctive and beautiful, and all together, they seemed like a magnificent panorama in that hall. However, that panorama suddenly started to look sparse when a much more familiar young lady entered the room.

Draco could barely believe his eyes, when he saw the doors at the top of the nearest flight of stairs open, as if on their own, and in through those doors swept Maria, but it was Maria like Draco had never seen her. Instead of a green ribbon in her hair, she was wearing three blue ones, and if anything, it seemed as if she'd let her hair grow even longer for that party. On top of that, her dress was even more flamboyant and magnificent than the one she'd worn in the garden, because the shoulders were larger, and the skirt had blue bows hung all the way around it; an impressive distance, Draco noted; several yards at least. Maria also had on a tall, pointed hat, of the sort that was gradually going out of style, even in the royal court, but if anyone could make it look stylish again, he decided, she was the one.

As usual, it was impossible to determine where Maria's legs were located, as she slowly descended the stairs into the ballroom, being careful to keep one hand on the banister just in case. However, by that point, Draco had gotten over his shock and wonder over the sight of the beautiful maiden, who he loved more than anything in the world, and as the shock wore off, he started to feel worried about her. After all, almost no one there, he reasoned, was worthy to even speak to her. They were royalty, but she was pure, and the very idea of any of them harassing her, or bothering her with the sordid accounts of their lives and campaigns made Draco's blood boil. Because of that, he decided, he was going to follow her for a while, and hope that he could stand up for her if one of the nobles seemed about to treat her with even the slightest dishonor.

Moving quickly towards Princess Maria from where he was, Draco did his best to listen in on what was being said to her, in spite of the incessant cacophony of the party that continued all around them. It was hard to hear or say anything in that crowded dance hall, but Maria, for some reason, seemed to be enjoying herself, either smiling eagerly or grinning sheepishly over everything that was said to her. By that point, though, Draco knew enough to determine that her sheepish expression was a sign that she was upset, so he continued to watch her carefully, wishing desperately for some chance to save her from that difficult situation.

Maria had only been talking for about fifteen minutes when the musicians began to play a new tune, and about half the people gathered started to dance again. When the music started, however, Draco looked at the floor. There was one thing that he really wanted to do more than anything else at that moment, but it would, he knew, be presumptuous for him to ask the princess herself for a dance at a big function like that one. He could, he reasoned, continue trying to protect her, and just having the opportunity to do that filled him with joy, but as for getting that close to the princess, in the middle of a big party like that one, he knew that it would have been...

Suddenly, as Draco continued looking downward, his field of vision was filled by thick, blue cloth, and a question seemed to float towards him, just slightly over the sound of the music.

"May we dance, Sir Draco?"

Almost too afraid to hope, Draco looked up from the floor, and there stood his beloved Maria, with one hand outstretched towards him in a thin, blue glove, like the very scepter of a king; offered as a sign of permission. Draco felt his whole face turning red at that moment, as he happily took her hand in his. It was, he realized, even as the two of them joined the dance, more than he'd ever dared to hope for.

Then, the dance began, and they held on to each other as their legs moved quickly in time with the sound of the music. Back and forth across the room they went, moving around noblemen and ladies, listening to the sound of the music, and gazing delightedly into each other's eyes. Maria seemed to have some idea of what part of the room they were headed to next whenever a new dance began, but Draco could barely keep track. He was just so enraptured by the whole experience of being there, moving with his beloved amidst such amazing surroundings, that for a while, nothing else mattered. He was with her, and the rest of the universe faded away.

After a while, in fact, Draco couldn't even tell when one song ended and the next began, because as long as they could keep dancing together, it really didn't matter to him. Their dance slowed down, and it sped up, but it didn't stop, and anyway, all that really mattered to him was the look of pure love in the eyes of the princess, as she stared at him with captivated attention. He never wanted it to end.

However, eventually, the expression of happy love that had been all over Maria's face did come to an end, and it was replaced by the one thing that made Draco feel worse than anything else; a look of terribly sadness on his beloved's face. Worse yet, that look surprised him, because he really hadn't been expecting it. After all, she hadn't shown her sadness to anyone else in that dance hall.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, desperately wishing that Maria would start smiling again, but if anything, she looked even sadder when she replied to him.

"I'm sorry, Sir Draco, but we need to stop dancing for now. I have a duty to perform."

Though it felt like cutting himself in two, Draco released her hands, and started to back away, and that was the first time he noticed that people had been watching them while they'd been dancing. Of course, it was hard to ignore someone like Maria, but it seemed that nearly everyone in the dance hall had turned to face them. For a few moments, Draco wondered if he ought to feel embarrassed by that, but it didn't really matter, because he knew that he could never be ashamed of Maria, or of his love for her. In fact, that was the first time that he'd truly faced the silent criticism of others, and decided, boldly, that their opinions of his feelings for Maria didn't matter. He loved her, and if he hesitated to say it in public, it was only out of respect for her reputation; not his.

However, as Draco continued to watch Maria, he saw something happening that really upset him.

It started out simple enough. Maria walked among the lords and ladies of the royal court, speaking to many of them, and it seemed like she was looking for someone in particular, because the people she talked to were either shaking their heads, or pointing her in a new direction. At last, however, Maria reached a young man, who was about her age. He was tall and slim, and he was dressed in pitch black pants, an orange vest and brown boots. He also wore a jacket over all of that, which was a kind of bright, clean red with gold trimming on nearly every edge; including the pockets, and his hair was a strange hue of green, and was pretty long, but done up into a neat ponytail in back of his head. He was handsome enough, in his own way, but there was a horrible look of ambition in his face, Draco thought, and yet, he also seemed overconfident, as if he'd never been allowed to fail at anything. There was something about that young man, which Draco just didn't like.

However, Draco soon found another reason for disliking the green-haired boy. He had an expression of avarice on his face as he talked with Maria, and after only a few seconds, she started wearing her sheepish grin again. Draco could tell, at that point, that she didn't want to talk to that man, and yet, someone was coercing her into continuing the conversation. Then, however, she did something that made him feel even worse, because after only a couple minutes of uncomfortable-looking discussion, she extended her hand to the young man, and the two of them began to dance.

That was the most painful sight that Draco had seen all evening; those two dancing back and forth in the same way that she had with him, no doubt, moving across the room to the tune of the music, and it was uncomfortable for Draco, because he could see the discomfort in Maria's eyes. Something about her duty as a princess was forcing her to dance with that man, but it was the last thing that she wanted.

Finally, the music stopped, and the man gave Maria a bow, which could hardly have looked less heartfelt. Then, after saying a few words, he turned and headed up the stairs, towards what must have been the royal chambers. Not able to bare it any longer, Draco turned to one of the dukes standing only a few feet from him, and asked, as politely as he could, "Do you know who that man is?"

"Of course." the older man replied, looking surprised by Draco's apparent ignorance, "That's Prince Ralse. He's the son of King Fallis of the East. Haven't you seen him before?"

However, Draco didn't even bother responding to that question, because he was just too worried. For a moment, he considered asking Maria if she was alright, but when he looked back up, he was shocked to find that she'd somehow managed to disappear, in spite of the impressive-sized dress she'd been wearing. Still, Draco was worried enough that he didn't even question why she'd vanished when the dance was obviously still going on. He just had enough time to notice that the door to the upper keep was closing with a snap, and that was when he decided that for the sake of the princess, he was going to find out what was going on.

Quickly, when it seemed like no one was watching him, Draco rushed up the stairs to the inner keep doorway, and stepped inside, pleased to find it unlocked. Soon, he found himself in a long hallway, with a carpet covering the floor, and several doors along the north wall. The place was mainly quiet and deserted, as if no one had gone through there at all, but after walking softly down the hallway, past a few doors, Draco started to hear voices coming from one of the nearby rooms. Maria didn't seem to be one of them, though. In fact, they were both male, and the owners of both voices sounded older that Draco. After a few moments, however, he started listening near on of the doors. He was amazed by just how well the sound of their voices traveled through the walls, but then, they probably weren't expecting anyone to be listening to them.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Fannis." one of the voices insisted, "Just because I'm a king doesn't mean I can afford to throw money away. The only wealth I have comes from my people, and you must be aware of just how my government differs from yours."

"Of course I know." replied the other voice, "In fact, that's why I came here. I was hoping that a short diplomatic affair might help us to overcome those differences."

"Diplomacy is for peace-making, and it involves subtlety." the first voice; apparently King John himself replied, "It's meaningless if all you want to do is deliver ultimatums. If you really care about making peace, you'll stop trying to force your form of government on us. You've done nothing but try to gain the cooperation of my dukes through extortion during the whole time you've been here. If that's your idea of diplomacy, there may never be an alliance between us."

"Look, I'd like to accommodate you," King Fannis replied, "but if you're going to keep insisting that your way is right, then I don't see how we're going to work things out."

"You always use that same tired line, don't you?" King John asked, sounding even more aggravated as he spoke, "I insist that my way is right, because it's the only way I can live my life, but you'll notice I've never tried to coerce you into agreeing with me. I've never threatened you with war if you wouldn't cooperate. You're the one who can't stand to let other people have different views."

"And you can?" Fannis asked just a moment later, "Your whole kingdom only supports one philosophy, one religion and one standard for morals. Mine supports many."

"Yes, it does," John acknowledged, "but you also oppress people who don't agree with that approach. I don't."

"Don't talk to me about oppression when you're running a whole kingdom!" Fannis exclaimed, suddenly sounding much angrier than before, "You're no different than I am!"

However, it seemed that King John had had enough of that discussion, because just a moment later, he brought it to an end.

"If you're trying to win some kind of debate with me over my style of government, then you're wasting our collective time. No alliance was ever formed by debating."

"In that case, you're telling me that there's never going to be an alliance between our peoples." Fannis concluded, though he still sounded a little angry.

"That's just the way it is." King John replied, "You won't get an alliance with my kingdom until you can respect its culture, and I certainly won't honor your son's request if I don't feel I can trust his father."

Based on what he'd heard already, Draco expected Fannis to fire back with another quick retort, but it seemed that the King of the East had finally gotten tired of arguing, because his next words were more of a threat than a reply.

"I have to keep defending you to my people, your majesty, and I don't think I can do that anymore. Besides, you're not giving me much of a reason to protect you anymore."

"No." King John replied icily, however, "I will not bribe you in order to avoid a war. If you want to invade my country, to force your ideology on my people, you go ahead. We'll be waiting with swords drawn. But if there's any tiny place in your heart that wants peace more than cultural conquest, then you'll do what you have to, in order to protect it; even if that means standing up to your people."

It sounded as if Fannis was going to reply to that again, but Draco didn't get the chance to hear his reply, because just then, he heard a sharp swishing noise, and felt thick fabric colliding with his legs from behind. In just another moment, a gloved hand had reached out and seized his, and he found himself being dragged back down the hallway towards the door he'd entered by. On top of that, when he took a closer look, he was only a bit relieved to see that the person dragging him was Maria. She wasn't facing him, though, so he couldn't tell anything about the expression on her face. However, he'd held out hope that at a certain point, she might turn around and explain what was going on.

Unfortunately, Draco's hopes were dashed, as the princess eventually reached the door to the dance hall and opened it, turning to face Draco with a look of anger on her face. In fact, it was the first time that Draco had ever seen her angry with him, and he hated it, because it made him feel angry with himself, and he wasn't even sure why.

"You'd better go." were the only words the princess said at that point, and although Draco couldn't bring himself to disobey her, he knew, as the keep door closed behind him, that something inside of him had just shattered into a million pieces.

* * *

Draco had slowly descended the stone steps after being forced out of the inner keep, and from there, he'd continued across the dance hall until he'd found a chair. At that point, he just sat down, and wouldn't get up again for anything. That evening had been a time of the greatest delight for him, but also the worst feeling of despair, because he was truly afraid that Maria might never speak to him again. It was such a horrible feeling, that he didn't even move when the music stopped playing, and lords and ladies began filing out of the dance hall, to return to their own territories. For a few moments, he thought about moving over to the balcony, but he just didn't have the will, and he was very tired anyway, so he sat back in his chair, hoping that his feelings of grief and misery would pass.

Unfortunately, Draco had to sit there for several minutes before he started to feel any different than he had before, and he wasn't really feeling much better, exactly. It was just that determination and anger were starting to emerge in his heart, where there'd only been sadness and grief before. It was hardly a more pleasant emotion, though it did make him feel like he could continue with his life for a little while longer without giving up.

However, the moment that Draco started to get up, he saw something that made him collapse back into his seat again in dismay. Prince Ralse was sitting on the bottom of the steps to the inner keep, watching Draco with a smug look on his face, and the next words that he said made the Knight of the West want to punch his lights out.

"I don't really feel like I need to say much of anything to you, sir. It's always difficult to lose the favor of a lady, but in the future, you'll be better off for having given up on her."

"What was that?" Draco asked at once, feeling his blood start to boil.

"To put it simply," Prince Ralse replied, "I have every intention of wedding Maria, and joining the East and West into a single kingdom under our rule as king and queen. Once your people have learned to accept our ways, the transition will be easy, and in time, everyone will be happier under the Eastern way of life."

However, at that point, Draco stood up to his full height; the fire in his heart burning brightly again, and when he replied to Prince Ralse, he was scowling darkly.

"I'm not going to stand by and just let you have what you want, you know. If you try to conquer the West, you'll have to fight our armies, and if you plan on marrying Maria, you'll have to kill me yourself."

"Really?" Prince Ralse asked in something that looked like amusement, "In that case, here's something else to consider. You know your king will never accept our way of life, and my father will never be satisfied until he has total influence over the ways of the West. There's not going to be an alliance. In fact, there may be open war within the next two years. I think the chances are very good that you may die in that war, and if you do, then your only chance to harm me in any way is right now."

Ralse clearly wasn't afraid at all, to judge by the way he spoke, and on top of that, he was very open and rude when he was expressing his feelings and plans. However, Sir Draco was determined not to be dragged down by scum like him, and when he replied, the smile on Ralse's face diminished slightly.

"That's just ridiculous. I don't have a chance to harm you now. It's not even wartime, and you haven't decided to risk your life. If I tried to kill you right now, I'd be nothing but a petty murderer, but make no mistake; war changes all the rules. If you plan on going to war, you'd better be prepared to pay for your crimes with your life."

"Pay?" Ralse exclaimed, "Me, pay? My people will be the ones who pay, you fool! That's how it always is with the powerful. Rank and privilege entitle me to the protection of my subjects. As royalty, I've never needed to earn a single gil, but I've always gotten everything that I ever wanted, and you'd better believe that trend is going to continue. You may be powerful, but you're no prince."

With those angry words, Ralse stormed out of the dance hall, looking truly furious, in spite of his bluster. In a way, that made Draco feel a little better, until he looked up the stairs again, and saw that the double-doors to the inner keep were open, and Princess Maria was standing in the doorway, looking absolutely distressed and miserable.

Quickly, Maria grabbed the edge of her dress again and rushed down the stairs as fast and as she safely could, approaching Draco slowly, still with the same sad look in her eyes. For several moments, Draco expected her to reprimand him for the way he'd acted towards the prince, but it was hard to tell just what she was so upset by, exactly. Even she seemed to be having difficulty deciding on something. At last, though, she looked up into his eyes and asked a question which, at the time, sounded pretty irrelevant.

"Why were you spying on my father? I always thought you were loyal to my father."

It was a legitimate question, of course, and as the princess, it was sort of her job to be careful when someone seemed to be on the verge of betraying her kingdom, but in a sense, Draco felt hurt that she'd even suspected him on treason. Still, he answered her question as quickly as he could.

"I wasn't trying to spy on King John. I was looking for Prince Ralse, because I wanted to find out what his business was with you."

For a moment, Maria almost looked relieved, but at last, her face fell again, as if she'd just been insulted, and in that moment, she replied "You could have just asked me."

At that point, Draco really did feel ashamed of himself, but he didn't reply to Maria's objection, because he really couldn't think of anything to say. He felt absolutely terrible about what he'd done. Still, Maria wasn't finished talking, and he had a feeling that he was going to feel even worse before too long.

"I feel a little flattered that you wanted to protect me from him, but I was just trying to do my duty as the princess. My father told me that I should dance with the prince tonight in the hopes of making a good impression. I think it may have been a waste, in the end. I didn't want to, though, and I don't think it really accomplished anything. That's what happened tonight."

It did make Draco feel a little relieved, but he still felt guilty over the way he'd reacted. In retrospect, he realized, he should have trusted Maria more, and if he wanted to have any chance for a happy marriage with her, he knew that he'd need to try harder to be loving towards her. However, he was only just starting to realize just how difficult that was going to be. As much as he liked Maria, and as much as he cared about her, learning to treat her right was going to be an uphill struggle. Still, Maria seemed to be doing her best to make it easy on him, because she'd always tried to treat him right. That was really a large part of the reason why he loved her so much.

"Sir Draco, I know why you're doing all this, and I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it," Maria continued only a moment later, "but I've always respected your duties, and you just need to learn to respect mine. I know you can put that kind of effort forth, Sir Draco. I trust you."

Then, once more, Maria reached out her hand, and that time, Draco took it without even thinking about it. Soon, she was in his arms again, and it was only then that the impact of his situation really hit him. He'd been given a magnificent chance; a real opportunity to earn the heart of the woman he loved more than any other, and with that incredible chance came an equally-monumental responsibility. Maria knew that she had important duties, but she was in a lot more danger than, perhaps, even she realized. Prince Ralse had clearly been spoiled rotten as a boy, but whatever ill fate had let to it, he'd become a very powerful and influential man as well. On top of that, he'd made it quite clear that he was willing to use every means at his disposal to marry Princess Maria and take control of her kingdom, and that included going to war. That meant that if Draco wanted to save her from becoming the wife of a man she could barely tolerate, he was going to have to make a stand; not just against one aristocrat, but against armies. If the East ever declared war on the West, he decided, he couldn't afford to let his kingdom lose, if, dead or alive, he could prevent it.

* * *

"I see..." The general remarked, looking very impressed, the confusion having finally faded from his face, "I knew you were enamored with the princess, but... Well, I had no idea. I was going to order you to stay behind and rest up during the next battle, but under the circumstances, I suppose I can't do that to you."

Though he was definitely still in pain, Draco smiled at his friend. In spite of his injuries, having to sit by and do nothing during any battle of that war would have felt like a punishment to him, because of the vow he'd made to protect the princess with every breath he took.

"Thank you." Draco said, smiling gratefully at General Han, "Don't worry, sir. I won't get in the way of your army. In fact, I'm sure I'll recover enough to fight within hours. I have to, for her sake..."

Then, he lay back into the cushion underneath him, and closed his eyes, focusing all his effort on gathering his strength for the battle ahead.


	3. Chapter 3: The Princess' Confession

Chapter 3: The Princess' Confession

* * *

No matter how much people try to prepare for the horrors of war, no given battle, it seems, can really proceed in an orderly manner, and for the soldiers involved in combat, there's always the sense of being surrounded by chaos.

Draco had taken a potion before walking onto the battlefield, but his leg still felt absolutely horrible, and it was all he could do to keep fighting, in spite of the pain. Still, when Draco fought, he really fought. No man on that battlefield could have beaten him in single combat, and he was a clever planner as well. He knew that in battle, only victory mattered. The gauntlet had been thrown down, and he couldn't stop until the enemy forces retreated.

Unfortunately, the forces of the enemy didn't look like they were planning any kind of retreat. Like most armies, the Eastern forces were composed mainly of young men, and although many of them look scared, nearly all of them seemed reckless. They were so young, that they didn't really understand the value of what they were risking, or why they should hesitate in drawing their swords for the whims of a man they'd never even met. It made Draco feel terrible to have to fight them, because he knew the value of life, and of love, and he knew what they were throwing away. Still, he couldn't afford to throw those things away himself, and that meant that he had to fight. He had no choice; his life and love depended on his victory there.

With all his determination, Draco aimed his sword for weak spots in armor, dodging shields and blades alike as his friends fell around him. More than once, Draco swatted aside an arrow with his blade, but he was losing both ground and support. The army of the West was falling before the superior numbers of the East, and soon, Draco knew that if he didn't retreat, the remaining forces of his army would be too far away to help him. Still, Draco's plan would never work unless he could continue advancing, and that meant that he needed to use the full abilities of his weapon. Quickly, he seized an axe from the ground; which had fallen from the hands of one of his enemies, and began using it as a shield, while he pressed the almost-invisible stud on the hilt of his sword.

Draco's sword was different from every other sword in the kingdom. He'd designed it himself, when he'd become a knight, and personally supervised the blacksmiths who'd crafted it. The metal that made it up was forged in such a way that it was stronger than mythril, and yet, it was hollow on the inside in three places. Two were along the sides, and one in the very center. The two on the edges usually contained long rods, which extended with the push of a button to support the sword from within, but the hollow in the middle contained a chain, because the actual blade of the sword was composed of several smaller blades, all connected to one another. It was a weapon that would be extremely dangerous for any slower, clumsier warrior to wield, but for someone as coordinated as Draco, the blade had all the functions of both a sword and a very long flail.

Three enemy soldiers were caught off-guard when Draco's sword first began to snake around through the air by his will, and another six behind them fell moments later to his first maneuver. With all the skill he could muster, Draco was wielding his own blade with one hand, while fending off as many attacks as he could with both his feet and the axe he'd stolen from a fallen enemy. It was an incredible technique; a lethal fighting method, making used of deadly weapons with the staggering strength of the Hero of the West. However, it was doomed to failure. Draco had known that from the start. As skilled as he was in using the many parts of his blade to ensnare and sever enemies, there were just too many, and sooner or later, one of them would get a good shot in. If he really wanted to diminish their number, he knew that he needed something bigger to attack them with.

Slowly but surely, Draco proceeded onward through the ranks of his enemy, watching carefully for any sign that he might be getting closer to their side of the battlefield, when at last, his weapon swept along the ground, cutting the legs of numerous warriors in front of him, and that was when he heard the flapping of canvas in the strong wind that was sweeping across those flat plains.

Eagerly, Draco charged into the man in front of him, axe-first, and started using him as a shield, pushing on further and further into enemy territory. Finally, he caught sight of a large siege weapon near the enemy camp; an enormous wooden ram, and leapt onto the man in front of him, then from there over the heads and weapons of his enemy, sweeping them aside with his own, until he'd landed on the wooden planks on one side of the ram. The ram had been mounted on wheels, and was clearly drawn by horses. On top of that, a selection of six separate crossbows were mounted on either side of it at the top, where the ram was operated from.

The ram itself was big and wooden, and shaped like a shaved spike. It was connected to a large, wooden frame on wheels by ropes and chains, which were attached to pulleys, and Draco could already see which ones had to be used to pull it back, and which ones held it in place. Forming a plan in his mind, he climbed the side of the ram, knocking arrows aside, and throwing two enemy soldiers from the top of the large, wooden device, where they'd been firing at him from the crossbows. There were more men up there, of course, but they didn't have a chance to react when the knight's sword spread out in front of them, as if moving with a will of its own.

At that point, Draco dropped the axe that he'd been using, and started operating one of the crossbows one-handed, hoping to defeat as many of the enemy as he could before he could execute his plan. In the meantime, he was using his other hand to wrap his sword around the ram's support ropes. Of course, the enemy continued trying to climb the ram and kill him, and he had to resort to defending himself mainly with his feet, which was almost impossible. In fact, he nearly died several times while making the attempt.

At last, however, Draco was ready to execute his plan. Reaching back for the chain that would pull the ram back, Draco tugged on it as hard as he could, feeling the huge, wooden ram slide back in response. Then, at last, he let go of the chain, and felt the ram lunge forward. Finally, as one final step, he pulled on his sword, severing the ropes that held the ram in place.

It had taken a lot of preparation, but the effect, Draco decided, had been worth it. The whole ram came loose from its wooden supports in one sudden motion, and went flying into the air like a giant arrow, soaring into the main body of the enemy forces with all the power of a catapult. The huge, wooden ram came down hard among the enemy, then continued to slide along the ground for several yards, stabbing its way through a group of chocobo knights and another troop of enemy soldiers. Of course, no more than a dozen of the enemy had actually been killed by the flying ram, but Draco's real objective had already been accomplished. The enemy had broken ranks in a panic, and were starting to scatter. As badly as they still outnumbered his army, Draco had just given his men a fresh chance to make a dent in the enemy forces.

Quickly, the Hero of the West seized another axe, cutting one of the wooden supports of the ram almost effortlessly, and kicking it off the main frame, towards another group of enemies, who were all struggling to get out of each other's way by that point. Then, wrapping his sword around the supports underneath him, Draco descended back onto the battlefield, looking for more weaknesses to exploit in the enemy's defense, once again reminding himself of just why he was willing to work so hard and risk so much.

* * *

"Unfortunately, things have only gotten worse since the last report we received from those territories. It looks like we got the worse from three whole battles along the southeastern borders, and we just don't have the resources or men to defend those territories if the enemy decides to make another move for them."

Draco was growing more and more frustrated as he listened to the chancellor giving his report on the recent developments in the war. It wasn't just that the chancellor often seemed like a cowardly sort of man, though. The truth was that as good a strategist as he was, Draco didn't think he really belonged in that room.

"Sir, those territories are dozens of miles from Garrou." Draco replied, hoping that he sounded respectful enough to get by, "That gives us some room to maneuver our forces and wear their defenses down."

However, it seemed that the chancellor hadn't been pleased with that suggestion for some reason, and a moment later, he revealed why.

"Sir Draco, I'm sure you remember what was said at the meeting three nights ago. It was our decision to hold those territories for the sake of the towns in that area. There are lots of good people there, and they need our support."

"There are lots of good people all throughout the western territories," Draco replied, however, "and King Fannis is going to enslave them all if we don't focus on winning this war. If we do win, we can get the old territories back, and we might even manage to acquire..."

At that point, though, the chancellor interrupted him with a look of serious disapproval on his face.

"We heard your objections during the last meeting, Sir Draco. Now that the issue is no longer on the table, we certainly don't need to hear them again."

However, that was all that Draco could take; knighthood, honor or not. At that moment, he brushed his chair backwards with an indignant flourish, getting to his feet in an instant. Everyone else in the council chambers was staring at him by that point, as if he'd gone mad, but he was tired of backing down, and he'd decided that he was going to say his piece.

"Then what am I even doing here?" Draco demanded to know gruffly, slapping one hand down on the table, "You asked me to join the council; I didn't volunteer. Do you want my strategic expertise or not?"

"You're being puerile, Sir Draco." the chancellor replied, however, "You know that in the end, the big choices are always made by higher-ranking officials, regardless of the advice they've been given. I heard your advice, and I made the decision I thought was best. You must have known it would be that way from the day you accepted this honor."

"I was naive back then." Draco just replied, however, "I thought that my advice would actually matter once in a while. Have you ever used any of my strategies even once since the war first started?"

"I'm sorry it seems that way to you." the chancellor just replied, "We haven't meant to offend you, but we can't change our decisions based on how you feel."

"Maybe not, but I can change mine!" Draco responded, his face turning scarlet as he spoke, "I'm not accomplishing anything here. If you're going to insist on ignoring me, then you'd better send me out to the front lines. At least there I'd be doing something."

However, by that point, it was clear that the chancellor was as fed up with Draco as Draco was with him, because his brow was furrowing in rage, and a moment later, he remarked "Yes, Sir Draco. I think that can be arranged. I hereby relieve you of your seat on the council. You'll be assigned to the army of General Han on the eastern front within the week."

Draco noticed the malice in the chancellor's voice when he gave that order, but he didn't feel offended anymore. In fact, if anything, he felt relieved for the first time in weeks.

"Finally." Draco remarked as he stormed out of the council chambers without another word to any of those poor aristocrats. He felt about ready to go into battle right then and there, but there was, of course, one more person who he knew he had to talk to before he left.

* * *

It didn't really surprise Draco to learn that the princess had spent most of the last hour in the flower garden. What did surprise him was what he found her doing once he got there. He'd heard that plants benefited from certain sounds, but he could still barely believe it when he found Maria playing a flute in the middle of the garden. In all the months they'd known each other, she'd never shared that hobby with him, and he wondered, for a moment, if she'd meant for it to be a surprise on their wedding night. She was certainly very good, although he had heard livelier tunes than the one she'd chosen to play to the plants that day. However, as soon as she noticed that he'd arrived, she stopped playing, looking up at him sadly, almost as if he'd just interrupted something.

Of course, that wasn't the issue. Draco knew better than that by that point. Maria was sad because he was sad. She was sad because she could see in his eyes that he had bad news to give her.

"Princess Maria," Draco said, giving her a cordial bow as he closed the flower garden door behind himself, "I'm sorry, but I have ill news."

The princess just nodded silently, resting her flute on her skirt as she listened to him a bit nervously. She was definitely feeling impatient, though like most of her feelings, she did a good job of controlling it.

"If I remain here in Garou, I can do nothing to protect you, Princess." Draco explained, "I don't have a choice anymore. I have to leave for the front lines within the week."

In the past, Draco had always marveled at the calm serenity of Princess Maria's demeanor, and the apparent ease with which she composed herself, even when something horrible had happened. However, when Draco gave her that news, she looked, for a moment, as if she was about to panic. It took her several seconds to get hold of her facial expression alone, and over a minute longer before her posture returned to normal. However, even when she'd managed all of that, Draco could tell that Maria was more distressed than she'd been in years.

"Wilisee... Will I see... Will I see you again?" the princess finally managed to choke out, apparently still having trouble controlling her voice, but Draco wished he could have given her a more definite answer to that question. He wanted it more than anything, but there was a decision that he'd made already; a decision that he was afraid to tell her about. He'd decided that what mattered to him more than anything; even more than their chance for happiness together as husband and wife; the one thing that was most important to him was making sure that Maria was safe from that rotten Prince Ralse. To make that happen, he'd decided, he'd even be willing to die.

"If I survive the war, you'll see me again," Draco replied, "and if anybody can survive this war, I will, but most importantly, I'll make sure you're safe. I just want you to be happy more than anything else."

For the next couple of moments, Maria looked as if she was trying to keep on a brave face, in spite of the horrible situation that she and her beloved had wound up in. At last, she was slowly opening her mouth, as if to wish him well, but the words that came out were very different from anything that Draco had ever heard her say to him before.

"Draco, you silly idiot. I can't be happy if you die."

It was the very first time that Draco had ever heard the princess use the word "idiot." Of course, he didn't feel offended, and it didn't change the way he felt about her, but it was still a big surprise. Princess Maria hadn't been keeping her feelings for him secret, exactly, but she'd never been quite that direct about them before, and as it turned out, she was about to be even more direct.

Scrambling desperately to her feet and wrestling with her skirt for a few moments, the princess rushed right at Draco, looking openly furious by that point, an expression that he hadn't seen her wear for a very long time. In seconds, she'd grabbed him by the collar in both hands, though of course, it didn't really hurt him. What did hurt him, though, was the way she was glaring into his eyes and shouting at the top of her lungs.

"I cant be happy if you die, Draco! I can't! Don't you dare leave until you understand that! If you're dead, I'll never be happy again!"

Draco was just so stunned, at that point, that he couldn't figure out how to react, and that was why, even after listening to her shout for several seconds, all he could really do was continue to stare into her eyes as she shouted, and try not to be burned by the fire that filled her gaze.

Draco must have looked incredibly confused, though, because in a fairly short time, the princess released him, looking bewildered and ashamed. However, she didn't back away, and in another moment, she'd grabbed him again. She didn't grab him around the collar that second time, though. Instead, she'd wrapped her arms tightly around his upper body, and she held onto him for several seconds before she finally let go, still looking ashamed and dazed. Even when Maria let go of Draco, though, she didn't back away from him, and the well-designed cloth of her skirt surrounded his legs from the knees down. She was closer to him than was usually considered normal, but for some reason, all that Draco could feel at that moment was sadness, and he wasn't alone. Maria's eyes were full of tears when she looked up at him again, and said something else that she'd never quite told him, in all the time they'd spent talking to one another.

"Draco, I love you more than anything or anybody. I love you so much that I'd give up everything; my money, my position, my will itself, just to be with you forever. I'd live a life of constant sacrifice; I'd give up everything if we could just be one... Just... For the two of us to become one flesh... I'd give up everything I am. The idea of anyone else asking me to forget you, or demanding that I marry them... I mean, now that I know what love is, I could never... I could never forgive anyone who'd take you from me!"

For a few moments, Draco just looked at Maria, trying to think of some way to reply to that, but at last, he arrived at a decision. For the first time since he'd met her, Maria had cast aside protocol and told him the complete truth about how she felt, so, he decided, he owed it to her to return the favor.

"Ever since we first met, the only thing I've really been afraid of was losing you." Draco eventually admitted, pleased to see that his remark had drawn Maria's attention at once, "That's the only reason why I never really told you until now. I was terrified that you might think I was being too forward, or that the king might hear, and then he'd never let us marry, and I couldn't bare the thought of that; especially once I'd spent time with you, and I learned what a fantastic person you really were. Maria; you're the most loving, wise and pure-hearted young woman I know. I'd face any danger to keep you safe. It hasn't been easy loving you this much. I've had to keep struggling to be a better person, and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It's just that as hard as it's been, that's the kind of life I want. I want a hard life, Maria, as long as I can spend it with you."

Tears were still building in Maria's eyes as Draco looked on, but at least her frown was gone, which was, to him, the important thing. Still, she didn't seem to know what to say next. She opened her mouth a couple of times, then closed it again, but no words came out. At last, though, she thought of something to say, and once again, her words surprised Draco quite a bit.

"In that case, we should be married now; before you go to war. You don't even have to go anywhere. We can elope; find a church on the road a few miles from here, and flee the country; just forget all about our royal stations and the war. I mean, I'm certain we could do it."

However, as romantic as the idea sounded, Draco knew that it wouldn't be that simple. Eloping in the midst of wartime wasn't like walking across town; a lot could go wrong with a plan like that. Ultimately, Draco replied to Maria sadly, trying to sound as agreeable as he could, though.

"I don't think that's such a bad idea, Princess." Draco said at last, "but if we did want to try that, we'd need to watch out for your father, Prince Ralse, and both of their armies. There is a war going on right now, whether we like that or not. Escaping from it won't be so easy."

"Besides," Draco continued a moment later, when the princess' expression had started to sag, "As a first princess of the royal family, it would take a lot of work and careful planning to make that kind of escape work out, and we don't have the time we need for that. I'm sorry, Maria, but right now, the only thing I can do is fight for the West, and hope it's enough to keep you safe. If it's not enough; if we lose this war, then I'll think of something else, but whatever you do, don't marry Prince Ralse or anyone else. I'd ask you to swear it on your honor, but our love's a stronger thing to swear by, and you've just done that."

For a few moments, Maria looked desperate again. Understandably, she was terrified that Draco would never come back from that battlefield, and she seemed to be trying to think of something to say or do; anything that could keep him there in that garden for just a little while longer.

"But can't I...? Can't you...? I can't possibly... I won't let you... By order of the Princess of the West, I command you to...! I... I mean..."

At that point, however, her words faded away completely, and it was, Draco thought, just as well. No words spoken by either of them could change what had to be done next. Maria might not have known it, but Draco respected her personal commands more than those coming from her royal station, and yet, there was one command that he could never obey; not even from her; the command to not fight on her behalf.

Soon, Maria had spun around and rushed back away from Draco in tears, and he wanted desperately to cheer her up in some way, but he couldn't think of anything to say to her. He certainly couldn't stay in Garou, and he had a feeling that no matter what else he said or did, it wouldn't make Maria feel any better. Still, he knew that he had to try.

"Ever since I saw the way you cared for these flowers, I knew you were a loving soul," Draco said as Maria continued to cry silently, "and I wanted to learn to love the way you did ever since then, but the moment when I realized that you really cared about me was when you tossed me that flower, just as I was about to leave the garden. That was when I knew that you loved me, even though we'd just met. You'd made the decision to show me love, and you never stopped making that decision. That was how I learned to love; by watching you."

For a moment, Draco paused, but he continued before long, determined to say what was on his mind.

"You've just shown me your love in a better way than ever, but if you need to be reminded that I'll never stop loving you, I could give you a flower, with your permission."

However, whether she liked or hated the idea, Draco couldn't tell, because Maria wasn't saying anything about it. She was still completely silent as she stood in the garden, not responding at all, and he couldn't even tell whether she was crying anymore or not. She just wasn't giving him any reply at all, and that made him feel worse than anything else she'd said or done up to that point.

Still, as bad as Maria was making him feel, Draco knew that he couldn't disrespect her wishes, and if she didn't want to talk to him anymore, or thought that everything important had already been said, then he wasn't going to press the issue.

Slowly, hoping that she might still change her mind about saying a few more words to him, Draco turned and opened the garden gates, leaving that section of the castle, and heading towards the bridge that led to the main gate. He was feeling pretty sad, at the time, but he was still determined to fight for Maria, and return safely, so that the two of them could be married. He could only hope, he decided, that she'd be willing to talk to him then.

However, just as he was taking his first steps onto the stone bridge that led from one section of the castle to the next, he heard the welcome sound of Maria's voice again, coming from overhead.

"Draco, wait!"

Quickly, Draco looked up, and there was Maria; standing on the platform that bordered the garden wall, and looking out from between two stone crenelations on the very top of the wall. The tears on her face seemed to be slowly drying, and much to Draco's relief, she was even smiling a little.

Soon, Maria's arm reached out between the crenelations, and threw something towards Draco. It looked, at first, as if the wind was going to sweep the large object away, but with a swift motion, Draco leapt for it, seizing the maiden's favor out of the air. That was when he noticed, in relief and delight, that it was a very large bouquet of flowers, and looked back up at Maria with a bright smile of his own.

"There aren't enough flowers in the world to express how much I love you, Draco," Maria exclaimed, smiling at him happily, "but the ones that are here will always be for you. Just come back safely, and always remember me."

Only a short time after that, Draco left the castle in fairly high spirits. It was definitely sad to leave Maria behind, and it was especially distressing that he had to place himself in danger, but at least the important things were settled, and whether providence smiled on him or not, he knew what he had to do and why. He had a purpose, and in the end, a man could endure anything if he just had that.

* * *

Draco had fought with all his might on that battlefield for hour after hour, watching men fall on all sides; both allies and enemies, but in spite of his best efforts, the tide of battle had continued to turn against them. The enemy didn't have much tactical brilliance, but their weapons were stronger, and their men more numerous. In the end, Draco had watched the army of the West dwindling, and knew that there was nothing left for them on that battlefield. He wasn't sure what had happened to the general, or the other knights and captains of the west, but if they didn't realize the battle was a lost cause by that point, then they were just being foolish.

Quickly, Draco had ambushed a chocobo knight, then taken his bird and driven it towards the survivors of the west, hoping against hope that he could reach them in time to plan some sort of useful retreat...


	4. Chapter 4: Poem of Lament

Chapter 4: Poem of Lament

* * *

The sun descended over the horizon on the night of the celebratory dance, casting the whole of Castle Garou in the single, enormous shadow of night. On the battlements overlooking the flower garden, however, only one person was there to watch the last light of the sun vanish, and she could only hope and pray that it wasn't a portent of anything. However, it was becoming harder and harder for Princess Maria to ignore what was happening all around her.

Maria had tried to hold out hope; to have faith in Draco; in fact, she'd tried with all her might, because it was the only hope that she had left, but the last several months had been a constant nightmare, regardless. Maria had felt totally helpless to do anything. In fact, she'd started to realize just how Draco must have felt when he'd been on Garou's council. Every day, it seemed like news of more lost battles had been coming in from towns closer and closer to Garou, but the chancellor hadn't seemed to want to do anything about it; at least no more than he had been doing. Maria had encouraged him, a number of times, to start retreating from the outer territories in the hopes of overpowering at least one of the eastern forces, but neither the chancellor nor the king had listened to her, and they'd continued to lose ground on all fronts, until news came in that the last of the Western forces was scattered, and the enemy was marching through the West unopposed, conquering towns wherever they went.

That was when King John had taken ill. He'd already been past his prime, and combined with the stress of the war and the despair that he must have felt over the seemingly-effortless conquest of his kingdom by Fannis and his son, he'd eventually weakened. Years before, he wouldn't have had any difficulty fighting off a simple disease like that one, but he seemed to almost be fading away on his own since Draco had left, and when the sickness had come on him, he just hadn't had the will to fight it.

The only time when the king seemed to have any strength at all was when Maria visited him in his room; which she made sure to do several times a day. She didn't feel like she was really helping anywhere else anymore. The chancellor hadn't listened to her, the council members or anyone else, and her father didn't have the strength to contradict him. Things had only gotten worse, however, when the armies of the East had finally arrived at Garou. The enemy numbered in the thousands, from every corner of the East, and the guards hadn't had a prayer. However, what the chancellor had done in response was something that Maria could never forgive.

Maria had met with the chancellor one last time when the armies of the East had arrived, to ask him for a favor. The castle was definitely in danger by that point, and at any time, the enemy could move in and finish them all off without a great deal of effort, but Maria had another concern, and that was the promise she'd made to Draco that no matter what, she would never marry anyone but him. She remembered the promise that he'd made to her too; how he'd sworn to come back if the war was lost and save her from Ralse, no matter what, but up to that point, Maria had thought that the castle was safe from Ralse, so she hadn't tried to escape or hide herself anywhere. The problem was that she definitely wasn't safe there anymore, and it looked like Draco wouldn't be back for quite a while, if at all. If she wanted to keep herself for him, Maria had decided, then she had to get away from the castle somehow, and hope that the armies of the East wouldn't be able to catch her.

It was a basic sort of plan, of course, but at least it was a plan, and the main reason why Maria had wanted to talk to the chancellor had been to get his help with it. However, the moment that she'd finished explaining her idea, the chancellor had essentially told her to grow up.

"We fought a hard fight," the chancellor said to her, looking very bitter as he spoke, "but it was always a lost cause. I think you know that. We just didn't have enough men or weapons, and now we've lost the war. We all have to accept what that means; even you. The objective right now is to save as many people as we can."

"Objective?" Maria had exclaimed, once again in desperation, "What objective? You just said you lost! That means you're not in charge of anything anymore! Why do I have to listen to a word you say?"

However, the chancellor had responded to that by drawing the sword that hung from his belt, and aiming it at Maria with a very cold look in his eyes. When he did that, though, she felt a strange mix of emotions rush through her at once, and they were hard to explain or describe. There was some fear in her at that point, but really, she was less afraid of his sword, and more of what he was going to demand from her in exchange for her life. The truth was, though, that she was helpless against him, because her father was too weak to stop the chancellor anymore.

"You're just being selfish, you ignorant child." the chancellor hissed, holding his sword completely still at level with her neck, "I've always thought that you were spoiled too much, and now I'm sure of it. This time, though, you have to face the facts. You're a princess, and you have a duty to your people, to keep them from harm as much as you possibly can. I've been talking with Prince Ralse, and he says that he plans to treat our people fairly under his rule if you marry him in exchange. I'm truly sorry that it had to come to this, but you have a responsibility to serve the needs of your people."

"Not by making a mockery of marriage." Maria replied, heedless of the sword point so close to her throat, "Marriage is a blessing, not a duty, and Ralse is certainly not entitled to it. No one is."

The chancellor's eyes narrowed as Maria spoke, and for a moment, it looked as if he was about to lash out at her, but she knew that he wouldn't take that risk, and even if he did, it didn't give her any excuse to avoid doing what she knew was the right thing.

"Even if I loved Prince Ralse, I don't have any duty anymore." Maria insisted, "He's the one in charge of the West now; not you, and certainly not me. My royal station is meaningless now, so you definitely can't use that as a weapon against me. However, my honor as a maid is something that I still have, and I have to keep my word. I can't marry anyone but Sir Draco, on my honor."

For a moment, it seemed clear that the chancellor would really have loved to run Maria through, because he looked about ready to pull his hair out in frustration. At last, however, he sheathed his sword and scowled at her in true loathing before speaking again.

"I don't need to hear anything else from you. I don't care whether you can justify marrying Ralse or not. There are a lot of people depending on us to earn as much of the Prince's mercy as we can, and we're going to do that, whether you like it or not. He's our prince now, and soon he'll be our king. You don't have a say in that."

"If you think anything could ever convince him to show mercy, you're a tremendous fool." Maria said before she had time to think her remark over. It wouldn't have been reasonable to expect the chancellor to take that remark well, but his actual reaction was even worse than Maria could have anticipated. In only a moment, he'd rushed forward and punched her hard in the face, knocking her to the floor.

"Get to your room," the chancellor spat out viciously, "or you'll feel my blade next."

Of course, Maria knew that was a lie on his part, but she did return to her room wordlessly a moment later. The chancellor had the will to ruin people's lives, but he wouldn't have had the guts to kill, even if it had been right.

* * *

Ever since that day, the king hadn't even opened his eyes once. Maria had tried to tell him everything that had been happening, but he was already so weak, that she couldn't tell whether he could even hear her anymore, and he certainly didn't have the strength to do anything about it. The worst part, of course, was that his crown had already been taken from him by that point, so even if he had gotten out of bed and tried to protect her, Maria wasn't sure that the chancellor would have listened to him anymore. With the fall of the West, the chancellor's role had degenerated to little more than the lackey of Prince Ralse, but he was fulfilling that job to the best of his abilities.

Ralse seemed to be more or less in charge of all the western territories by that point, and he and the chancellor had planned out everything in preparation for that night. There would be a huge dance, just like the one where Ralse had first met Maria. Then, after the dance would come the wedding, where Maria would be married to the prince, and the royal chambers had already been prepared for them to occupy as king and queen. The whole idea horrified Maria, but it had been made quite clear to her that she didn't have any choice anymore. It was going to start with the last rays of the sun on that night, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

That was why, in desperation and despair, Maria stood on the battlements overlooking the flower garden that had once been a source of such joy to her; wanting nothing but the chance to give them all away to the only one who'd really been deserving of them.

Maria tried desperately to ignore the reality of her situation as she stood on that battlement, looking out between the crenelations, as the last light of the sun faded away. She knew that someone would be looking for her in a very short time, to bring her down to the dance hall, but she just didn't want to think about it anymore, so she tried to ignore it instead; doing her best to deny the sun's fading light and the cold stone that surrounded her. For a moment, she could almost felt, in all of that denial, the presence of the one man she'd loved more than anyone else, as if he were standing right beside her, and able to hear her words one last time. It was probably a silly thought, of course, but those silly thoughts were the only comfort that she really had left, and it was because of them that she eventually began to speak into the night, hoping that somehow, her words might reach her beloved.

"Oh my hero," Maria recited sadly, "so far away now. Will I ever see your smile? Love goes away, like night into day. It's just a fading dream..."

The words had never felt so sincere as they did then, and indeed, Maria had recited those words in her heart many times before that night; composing and refining them in the hopes of giving herself the strength to do what needed to be done. It was a piece of poetry that she'd written for Draco, but somehow, speaking it aloud seemed to give it a greater meaning, even if her beloved couldn't hear, so she continued to recite those special words.

"I'm the darkness, you're the stars. Our love is brighter than the sun. For eternity, for me there can be, only you, my chosen one... Must I forget you? Our Solemn promise? Will autumn take the place of spring? What shall I do? I'm lost without you. Speak to me once more!"

Maria had started to grow restless as she'd recited those words, so she'd slowly begun to walk across the top of the battlement, and up a short series of steps to an even higher spot in the castle's turrets. Each step had seemed just as meaningless as the last, and each felt like it had taken an eternity, but at last, as Maria finished her poem, she looked up at the center of the upper battlement, and gasped in joy and amazement over the sight that greeted her.

A strong light was shining all across the tower, as if to replace the fading light of the sun, which had failed her, and at the center of that light was the only person who could truly have given Maria hope. It was her beloved; Draco, and he had the same expression of pure goodness and strength on his face that he always did; that look that one could really only see on the faces of men who had the power and desire to protect the people they cared about; a trait, Maria had discovered, which wasn't nearly common enough.

However, it was more than just the look on Draco's face, or even the fine armor he was wearing, or the clink of his boots on the stone, because a moment later, he spoke to her, and his words were clear and delightful, because he looked just the way he had on the night of their first dance; nervous, but eager and willing.

"Come, Maria!" Draco said happily, as she walked in amazement over to where he was standing, "Follow my lead..."

Under other circumstances, Maria might have asked questions at that point, but questions belonged to the other world; the world of facts that she'd left behind, because it couldn't offer her anything anymore. Besides, she didn't want any answers. All she wanted was to reach out and take the hand of her beloved one more time.

Soon, Maria found herself once more in the brave knight's arms, and as before, he let her lead as often as not. It was just like the last time they'd danced. He was bold, but he was also a gentleman, and he truly did care about the lady who he held. Though she knew, on some level, that she was still surrounded by enemies, Maria didn't care anymore. Draco was there, and that was all that mattered; being surrounded by his strength and love.

The dance lasted quite a while, she thought, but still not long enough. After all, unless it could last forever, it wasn't quite sufficient. Still, Draco looked happy when he finally released her; ecstatic, in fact, as though he'd longed for the dance just as much as she had, and she wasn't surprised at all when he looked up into the sky, and in one glorious moment, let out a laugh of triumph.

Just then, however, something happened that horrified Maria, because she couldn't tell what it meant, exactly. The light surrounding Draco flared up for a moment, forcing her to look away, and when she turned back to the place where he'd been, she found, to her dismay, that he was gone. All that was left was a large bouquet of bright red flowers, lying on the ground; one of the largest, in fact, that Maria had ever seen.

Maria wasn't quite sure what to do next. She was only just starting to realize that as real as he'd looked, sounded and felt, the shining figure of Draco must have just been a daydream, but the flowers at her feet seemed to be real, and she couldn't tell where they'd come from. However, once she started thinking clearly again, she knew that there was only one thing she wanted to do with them.

Quickly seizing the bouquet from the ground at her feet, Maria rushed up another set of steps in front of her, and towards the edge of the battlement again, looking down at the very bridge where she'd last seen her beloved in person, and as it happened, she'd been holding a bouquet back then too. It seemed like the perfect time to finish her message to the man she loved.

However, for some reason, the message that Maria wanted to give to Draco had changed. Before, she'd never even stopped to consider what she might do if Draco didn't return, because she'd always had faith that he would, but that night, she'd arrived at a very important decision, and it only seemed appropriate that her poem should change slightly from what she'd first planned, in order to reflect that.

"We must part now." Maria recited, "My life goes on. But my heart won't give you up."

With those words, Maria once again threw the bouquet of flowers down towards the bridge, watching ad they were caught up by the wind, drifting just a bit to the north of where she'd intended them to, but that was alright. She couldn't have thought of anything better to do with a bouquet of flowers than to give them up for her one true love, and she certainly didn't ever plan to use them again. It was the only decision that she could have made, and the only time that she had to finish her poem.

"Ere I walk away, let me hear you say." Maria continued, "I meant as much to you... So gently, you touched my heart. I will be forever yours. Come what may, I won't age a day, I'll wait for you, always..."

It was just a poem, of course, but Maria could almost swear that, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slight flash of light in the very sky itself, as if even the stars themselves were confirming the strength of her words. However, it seemed as if the stars were wiser than mortal men, in that respect, because Maria could already hear the unwelcome sound of footsteps approaching her from behind, and knew that the man behind her had come to rob her of those vows.

"Prince Ralse is looking for a dance partner." the chancellor announced firmly from behind Maria, in one of the coldest voices that she'd ever heard him speak with, though she was tired of listening to the poison of his words, "Since you'll wed him later tonight, it would be inappropriate for him to dance with anyone else."

"There is nothing appropriate about any of this." Maria replied back, not looking at the man for even a moment, "Prince Ralse has no respect for anyone. If he's going to be in charge of my future, then there's nothing left for me."

"For your own sake, you should at least try to change that attitude of yours." the chancellor replied, sounding as if, for once, he was trying to subdue his anger, "Leave the past behind! Our kingdom is adopting the spirit of the East...!"

Then, without another word, the chancellor turned on his heel, his cape whipping around behind him, and soon, he'd gone back the way he'd come, leaving Maria alone.

Once again, the chancellor had tried to crush Maria's spirit, and once again, he'd failed, but that time, his failure had been complete, because Maria had arrived at a very dangerous decision. She'd seen the way that the kingdom had changed during the administration of the East; how a sort of strict dictatorship, stressing a dogma of ethical weakness had come into power over her people, and she'd heard about how the eastern armies had broken up families by force, stealing children from their parents, to be watched over by the government, while encouraging their parents not to honor their sacred vows, or to deny their sanctity. The only saving grace, as far as Maria could tell, was that since the whole thing had been imposed upon them by the sword, no citizen of the West had difficulty understanding just how evil their new lords were, or how much wickedness was being forced upon them.

Having seen all the injustice that Prince Ralse had imposed on the people who Maria had once called hers, she'd arrived at a very important decision about him. His people may have believed in allowing the strong to force marriage on the weak, but if he tried to marry her by force, she'd decided, she wasn't just going to put up with it. She couldn't survive as his wife, which meant that if he married her, then one of them would have to die, and if at all possible, she concluded, it wouldn't be her.

Slowly, Maria headed back towards the stairs, looking around carefully as she moved; watching for opportunities. She was starting to grow up and take responsibility after all, but not in the way that the chancellor had intended.

* * *

Gary frowned as he looked up from the hay that he'd spent the last three hours arranging into the feed trays of the horses. The lights and noises coming from within the castle seemed brighter and louder than usual, which was saying something. Ever since the East had conquered Garou, it seemed as if Prince Ralse had held a party there almost every night, and from what Gary could tell, there was no purpose to those parties. They weren't for talking with other leaders or planning how the government would use its wealth. They weren't even for simple socializing with peers, because he'd heard that not a single genuine lord or lady had attended any of them.

Gary lived in a tiny cabin, a mile or so down the road from the castle, but he had a lot of friends, and he heard about things that went on inside. He was also a fairly good judge of character. In another age, he would have been a great tribal leader, because he had every natural gift except one; he hadn't been born of royalty.

With all of those gifts, however, Gary found himself having an easy time anticipating what was going to happen to their kingdom, and those thoughts were hardly cheery ones. He could tell what kind of a man Prince Ralse was. He knew that Ralse had never done anything for anyone, except to support his rule, and force his own will on the people, and that will was simple. He wanted to be able to use his money and prestige to do whatever he wanted, regardless of whether it was right or wrong. There was no other way that he would ever have been allowed to wed Princess Maria, and yet, that was clearly his plan. For a wise man, with a full grasp of the facts, it was impossible to mistake Ralse for any other kind of man than that; a spoiled child, who was still railing at restrictions, and determined to tear the very world itself to pieces whenever it wouldn't let him have his way.

That very attitude had already done a large amount of damage to the people of the East. They were numerous, because of the former strength of their empire, and had great weapons, because their king had been willing to spend so much of his people's money on them, but in reality, those very things that had given them such military power at first were tearing their country apart from the inside. Gary had heard stories from the east, about how more and more rebellions were being put down, which was, he thought, a positive thing, because it meant that more and more rebellions were beginning.

Gary didn't know much about the rumor mills in the east, but he trusted the information that they'd given him, if only because it was at odds with the proclamations coming out of Fannis' castle.

Of course, Gary hadn't just been gathering all that information for no reason. Ever since the East had taken over, and his youngest boy had been taken away be those eastern soldiers, he'd been planning one last attack against Prince Ralse. Most of the able-bodied men in town wanted to be part of it, but the problem was that he just wasn't sure what kind of odds they'd be facing if they tried to storm the castle, and he didn't have anyone who could get them into the castle without a huge fight. They had to be very careful, though, because the rebellion was never going to get off the ground if they couldn't keep the crown from finding out about it, and that was why they never talked about it in public, and didn't let anyone see them carrying weapons. Gary didn't like having to wait any longer than necessary, but as things were, he knew they couldn't really be sure of victory, even if they waited for another couple of months, and he didn't want his plans to end in just another failed insurgence, so he waited carefully, watching for any signs of weakness to exploit, or any opportunity to strengthen the forces that were willing to follow him into battle.

That night, of course, Gary kept those thoughts in the back of his mind as he worked. He hadn't planned to launch any attacks, or even meet with any other resistance members that night; he was just trying to finish caring for the horses; the honest job that he did every day, and had once been nearly satisfied with. For that one night, he was willing to at least try to forget how it made him feel, to think of those very horses being used to support Prince Ralse's meaningless debauchery. However, as he closed up the stables that night, then turned to head for home, just as the last light of the setting sun started to fade away, he saw that one man was standing in the road, just between the stables and his house, and that person seemed to be looking right at him. He was an odd-looking man, because he was dressed in a long cloak with a hood, and he looked very broad at the shoulders. On top of that, he had a fiery look in his eyes, like the kind of man who'd already decided, once and for all, what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Clearly, he was a very strong-willed man, but the question was, what did he want with Gary?

The stable hand just walked towards the cloaked man for a few moments, then stopped, since the man in the long, brown cloak wasn't moving aside. Obviously, the he wanted to talk, but he didn't seem like he was going to speak first.

"Do you want something from me?" Gary asked the man after a couple of moments, and it was at that point, finally, that he heard him speak. For some reason, his voice sounded familiar too, but it was hard to place it exactly.

"I think we should discuss this in private."

Gary still wasn't sure what to think about that; whether to suppose that the cloaked man wanted to join the rebellion, wanted to expose it, or was just upset over a loose horseshoe or something. Still, he opened the door to his house a moment later, and invited the man inside. His wife Sarah looked distressed over having such an odd stranger in their house at dinnertime, but it couldn't be helped. Whatever the stranger wanted, Gary was intent on resolving the issue quickly.

"Now, then." Gary said, closing the door behind them and sitting down at the table in the middle of the central room of his small house, "I don't have much to offer you for dinner, but if you'd like, you can share our meal while we talk. The taxes are getting worse every day, so we're having a hard time making end's meet. Still, I don't want to seem unfriendly."

"Thank you," the cloaked figured replied, "but I've already had dinner, and I don't want to impose. Besides, I don't expect this to take too long."

"Suit yourself." Gary replied with a brief shrug, leaning back in his chair a little, "So what's the problem? What do you need my help with?"

"I heard you were the leader of the resistance in this part of town," the cloaked figure replied somberly, "and don't think that information was easy to come by. I could use your help to storm Garou."

"What?" Gary asked with an amused smile, "That's it? You show up out of nowhere, and we just storm the castle? You've got big dreams. I'll give you that, but if my forces could've stormed Garou and taken out the Eastern guards, I would've done it already. Unless you brought an army with you, there's not much I can... I can..."

However, by that point, Gary's voice started to trail off, because the man in the cloak had folded his arms and was looking more confident than ever. That was when Gary started to take him much more seriously.

"You do have an army, don't you?"

"Half of the people out in town right now are my men in disguise." the man in the cloak replied, "and all they want is to end this nightmare we've had to endure for the last couple months. Of course, even if we succeed here, the enemy will still outnumber us, and we'll have to move quickly, but if we can just disrupt their power base here, we may have the chance to defeat them a little bit at a time."

"I just want Ralse's head." Gary replied quickly, looking down for a moment, "If I had that, I could live like a fugitive. Just how many men have you got, anyway?"

The cloaked man's reply was like a breath of fresh air to Gary.

"I've been gathering survivors from all the main territory battles. They're all veterans; people who've survived some of the worst mismatches in the history of war, and any one of them could have planned better battle strategies than the council we used to have. There's over a thousand of us now."

"A... A thousand vets?" Gary muttered, suddenly awestruck as he pondered the incredible good fortune of the situation, "They... They all follow you?"

For a moment, the cloaked figure just nodded, not saying another word, but that wasn't enough for Gary. He had to know more.

"I don't understand." Gary remarked firmly, his expression of determination returning, "Why would all those warriors follow you? Who are you, anyway?"

The man in the cloak still didn't speak, however. Instead, he pulled his hood back, and suddenly, Gary knew that he'd follow the man in front of him into any battle; no matter how mismatched, and he was sure that the other members of the resistance would agree once they learned the truth. It was even more than Gary had hoped for.

"So..." Gary Mansfield replied, a smile breaking out across his face, "I'm guessing now's as good a time as any to call a 'town meeting.'"


	5. Chapter 5: The Battle of Love

Chapter 5: The Battle of Love

* * *

The sun had vanished over the horizon, and the sounds of the party inside of Garou could still be heard a huge distance away. However, that night, hundreds of shadows crept towards the castle, being as silent as possible as they moved, until they arrived at its very gates. There were only a few guards outside of those gates, but they would have been enough to raise the alarm if they'd had the chance. Silently, therefore, one shadow broke off from the rest, moving towards the guards, just outside of their field of vision. At last, it was mere inches behind one of them, and there, in one swift motion, it drew two weapons. In only a moment longer, before either man could react, it was holding a sword to the neck of one of the guards, and aiming a longer sword, outstretched, at the others.

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, and there was complete silence. The guard with the blade to his neck was starting to look absolutely terrified, but the others looking more concerned for their friend than mortally afraid for themselves, which was their mistake. From that angle, the shadowy figure could have killed any of them easily. Still, he hadn't done so yet, and he had his reasons for that.

"In a fraction of a second, I could kill you all." the figure whispered just loud enough to be heard by the three guards there, "I should, since you're serving Ralse. You'd have earned it. However, it's also possible that you've been forced into this; that you'd give anything to destroy him. If that's the case, then you should be fighting on my side."

With those words, the figure tossed his head back quickly, sweeping aside his hood, and revealing his true identity; Sir Draco; the former Hero of the West. For a few moments, the three guards just looked at each other in worry, not sure what to make of their situation. One of them, after all, had been born and raised in the East, but even on his face, there was a look of doubt.

"Before you make your decision, you should know that you're surrounded by my men right now." Draco continued firmly, "If you decide to try to fight me, there's no way that you can escape. On the other hand, if you join me, we may all become fugitives, and escaping won't be easy. We will, however, be able to help each other. Of course, if you really do want to fight me, there's nothing stopping you. You'll just have to deal with the consequences of that choice."

It seemed that the Western guards had both made up their minds to join Draco, but the guard from the East was starting to look convinced too, and in a moment, he'd sheathed his weapon.

"Forget that." he said, "I didn't come here to do this kind of thing anyway. The Prince has just been in there partying all month, and I've never gotten even one invitation. I'm sick of risking my life for him."

At that point, though, Draco had started to smile, and in another moment, he'd sheathed his smaller sword, releasing the guard who he'd been using as a hostage. Fortunately, none of them tried to move against him at that point, which was a relief for all of them, but they didn't seem terribly confident either, and a moment later, one of them spoke up, looking pretty confused.

"So what are we supposed to do, sir? Ralse is planning to marry the princess tonight, and if he does that, he'll be the legitimate King of the West."

"Well, we obviously have to get into the castle and stop him before he can hold the wedding." Draco concluded, "How long do you think the dance will last?"

"There's no way to say." the guard from the East replied, "It could be fifteen minutes or three hours."

"Eastern wedding ceremonies don't last very long." Draco muttered to himself for a moment, "Our country wouldn't have considered them valid before, but right now, the country is Ralse, so we need to get in there as quickly as we can."

For a moment, the guards started to look disappointedly at the ground, but Draco knew why they were upset, and he was eager to make them feel a little better.

"Don't worry." Draco replied with a smile, "I know this gate only opens from the inside. I'll just need your help in the fight. I can get us into the castle myself."

Then, before anyone could ask Draco what he meant by that, he'd pressed a stud on his sword, and swept it forwards. In moments, the blade had entangled itself around one of the crenelations on the lower walls, and soon, he was climbing up along the chain sections of his sword, carefully avoiding the sharp points that made it such a useful weapon. Soon, he'd made it to the top, and was pulling up his sword behind him, then disappeared over the other side of the wall.

For a few seconds, nothing else seemed to be happening. There was no sign of Draco's presence at all, in fact. Soon, though, there was the sound of heavy chains being moved from the other side of the gate, and in moments, the whole gate came crashing to the ground, its thick chains having been separated completely from the wheels and pulleys that had recently been used to move them. That gate, the three guards were amazed to see, would never work again, and on the other side stood the man responsible; still armed with twin swords, and flanked by two more apparent defectors from Ralse's side. Just seeing such strength and skill on the part of that great man was, they realized, starting to give them all hope again.

* * *

Maria had spent a lot time handling flowers, and every bit as long digging in the dirt since she'd been just a little girl. In fact, she'd found that there was something beautiful and honest about the soil of the garden; something that was wholesome, just because it gave life. She knew what it was like to get dirty, and had even enjoyed it from time to time. However, she'd never really felt dirty back then, and she'd never felt anywhere near as dirty as she did that night, being led around the dance hall in a sort of uncomfortable, forced waltz.

It was the worse sort of dance that Maria had ever been part of. The only dance that might have compared was her first dance with Ralse, because while he knew a thing or two about dancing, he was inconsiderate in the extreme, and it showed in every step he took. Everything had to be done his way; by his will. There was no time in that dance when he showed even a sign of letting Maria lead, so nothing about the dance could have been enjoyable, even if she'd tried to have a good time. Brute force and an inconsiderate heart could, after all, ruin anything.

However, Maria had been helpless to stop the dance in any way. She was trapped in the arms of the person she disliked most in all the world, and there was nothing she could do about it yet; not until he let down his guard. However, that might, she was starting to realize, take quite a while. Ralse didn't seem to realize just how much disdain he'd inspired in the princess, though, because as the dance continued, he spoke to her a number of times, sounding as if he really wanted her to love him in some way.

"I know how you must feel about me, princess. I'm sorry about what's happened to your father. For what it's worth, I hope he recovers."

Maria didn't say a word as the prince continued to lead her around to room, so soon, he seemed to have decided that it was alright to speak to her a bit more.

"My father had his own ambitions for your kingdom, but I never did. There are certain things I had to do, just to appease him, but once we're married, I'll be the king of both our countries, and then things will go back to the way they were."

For a moment, Maria genuinely though about that possibility, but she wasn't really that naive. Ralse had been raised to hold the same beliefs as his father, and he was still determined to keep her from marrying Draco. On top of that, he'd done everything in his power to impose his will and his form of government on her country by the sword. Maria had learned, long ago, that the truth about a person was found in their actions; not their words, and that lesson couldn't have had a better example that Prince Ralse. He talked very convincingly at times, but those words were nothing more than a lure, to cover for his barbaric actions. Over time, the princess had grown too intelligent to fall for such transparent lies.

"I know you may only be thinking about the horrible things that have happened in the past," the prince remarked, "but we should be thinking about the future. Soon, I'll be the world's most powerful man, and with me by your side, you'll have nothing to fear."

"Nothing but you." Maria thought silently, though she didn't dare to express how she really felt just yet.

"I'll make sure that peace reigns throughout the western territories." Ralse explained, and in those words, the princess saw a slight glimmer of the truth, because to Ralse, "peace" meant "a lack of any opportunity for rebellion against me." Peace, to him, was oppression, not fairness.

"My men are very loyal." Ralse insisted, though in her mind, Maria found herself replacing the word "loyal" with "afraid."

"If I sign an edict that the people are no longer allowed to own weapons, there won't be anyone left to harm you." the prince explained, though once again, in her mind, Maria had replaced the words "harm you" with "challenge me;" the thing that he truly meant. To Ralse, Maria was nothing but a possession to guard. He didn't really care about her, or he would have been willing to honor at least some of her requests. In that respect, Ralse's wish to keep Maria safe only stemmed from his central desire to get whatever he wanted, and to prevent other people from taking it away from him. There was no love in a heart as cold as his.

At last, however, Prince Ralse said one more thing, which really hurt Maria, all the way down to the bottom of her heart, whether he'd meant to or not.

"Don't worry, princess. No violent killer will ever touch you again. This kingdom will live in peace for a hundred years."

Maria had to fight back the urge to strike Prince Ralse right across the face for that remark. Committing violence, and even killing weren't always a sign of wickedness, but murder always was, and over the course of the last few months, Prince Ralse had murdered whole families. He had absolutely no right to touch her himself, or even to come within a mile of her, and yet, the only way that she could stop it was, she realized, by playing along. Still, the words that did end up coming out of her mouth contained a sort of half-truth, which she hadn't intended.

"Yes. There will be peace very soon."

However, even as Maria said those words, she started to notice a sort of strange rumbling, which seemed to be coming from outside, and it was growing louder with every passing second, becoming more and more distinct. Furthermore, Maria wasn't the only one who was noticing it. Everyone; including Ralse himself seemed to have heard the odd noise, and many were rushing to the balcony to get a better look. Prince Ralse, however, merely stood where he was, releasing Maria and looking around carefully, like a wolf expecting to be ambushed at any second.

Sure enough, only a moment later, the door to the dance hall had burst open, and in rushed a young soldier, who looked incredibly tired and out of breath. In fact, it seemed as if only his panic was keeping him on his feet, and it took him several moments before he could speak intelligibly. However, the first person he spoke to once he'd gotten his breath back was Prince Ralse himself, and he spoke to the prince without any of the customary bowing or requesting that was usually done by subjects of the East.

"Prince!" the soldier exclaimed in obvious desperation, "It's the West! The survivors of the West attack!"

"Impossible!" the prince exclaimed angrily, his brow furrowing in disapproval, "They fled before us like sheep! What kind of attack could they possibly...?"

However, just at that moment, the doors that the soldier had rushed through were flung open again, and in charged two men, each dressed in leather armor, and wearing purple cloth around their heads. Each was armed with multiple weapons, and they looked ready to attack anyone who dared to stand in their way.

"They're here." the young soldier muttered, desperately drawing his sword as the dancers all fled in a panic to either side of the hall. Soon, the two invaders charged into the room, shouting the call to attack, and one of them had engaged the young soldier, while the other struggling with one of the Prince's personal guards.

Maria could barely believe what was happening before her very eyes. Ralse's guards were some of the East's most experienced warriors, and yet, those soldiers in the leather were fighting on a completely even footing with them. It was almost as much as Maria could have hoped for, though she knew that Ralse was a skilled fighter himself, and could definitely turn the tide of that battle if he decided to draw his sword. Still, those rebels had gotten into the very dance hall where Ralse had been holding his party, and if they'd really gotten that far, then they must have been led by someone very powerful.

However, as Maria thought those things over, she heard yet another voice, distracting almost everyone from the fierce battle that they were engaged in. It distracted her most of all, though, because she would have recognized that voice in her sleep.

"Wait!"

Suddenly, there was a huge blur of silver and yellow, and something very large came crashing onto the balcony from below, then charging into the room in a flash. It was enough to arrest the attention of Ralse's guards from what they were doing, giving the rebel soldiers the chance to get the upper hand, and run their enemies through, though many of the party guests screamed at the sight. Maria had never seen a person killed before, but for some reason, all she could feel was relief, as the fast-moving object colliding hard with the Prince, knocking him to the floor.

In seconds, the swift, blurry object had divided into two, and it was then that Maria saw what it was, and hope started to finally return to her heart. The bottom part of the thing; the yellow part, was a chocobo; the fastest kind of mount in the world; a bright yellow, flightless bird, and the one in the silver, who'd been riding on it, was none other than her beloved Draco himself; the very one who she'd been praying to see again.

It seemed as if he'd been praying for her as well, because soon, Sir Draco had turned to face her, even as Prince Ralse tried to scramble to his feet. In spite of the chaos that surrounded them, his eyes were only for her.

"Maria!" Draco exclaimed, with the same look of love that he'd always tried to show her in the past.

She didn't dare to make a move towards him at the time, because Ralse looked like he was about to attack, but Maria couldn't stop herself from replying to her beloved at once, with the best words of encouragement that she could think of.

"Draco, I've waited so long. I knew you'd come."

Of course, Draco's smile broadened when he heard that, but it was short-lived, because soon, the tall figure of Prince Ralse was standing between them, pointing one finger accusingly as he spoke to the intruder.

"I suppose you think you've been terribly clever," Ralse said angrily, "bursting in here like a psychopath and causing a commotion in the middle of a peaceful dance. The last time we met, you said that you'd only have the chance to harm me during wartime, because war changes all the rules. Isn't that exactly what you said?"

Draco didn't say a word in reply to that, however.

"Here you are, however. The war is over. I won, and yet, you approach me with your sword drawn. Why, Draco? If you're willing to murder me in a time of peace, then why didn't you do it before?"

However, nothing about Draco really seemed to have been changed; by the war or by Ralse's words. He didn't look any more desperate or vicious than he had all those months ago. In fact, he looked, if anything, more careful and intelligent than ever, and when he spoke, his reply was very direct.

"I notice you've been fixating on only one of the things that I said, Prince Ralse. You've ignored all the others. For one thing, I told you that if you planned to marry Maria, you'd have to kill me yourself. I also told you that if you went to war with the West, you'd have to pay for it with your life. I won't take that back, whether you won or lost."

"I think you're just a stubborn fool." Prince Ralse replied, however, discarding all attempt to reason with his enemy, though Draco still didn't make a move against him, "You don't like the fact that you lost, and you won't accept my victory, just because it goes against what you want."

However, Draco didn't even look upset at that point. In fact, he'd started smiling again a moment later.

"You puffed-up, lying windbag." Draco remarked with a proud grin, "You never beat me."

"What?" Ralse exclaimed, clenching his fists tightly in fury, but Draco wasn't backing down.

"You said it yourself; I'm not a prince." the great knight replied, his smile seeming to grow wider as he spoke, "I don't even fight on the same level as you. You fight with armies and guards. You tell them where to go and what to do, and they do it. They do your fighting for you, and all you have to do is plan things out. During the war, I never fought that way. I fought with my own two arms, against other enemies, who fought the same way I did, and obviously, since I'm standing here right now; alive, I won those fights. I never fought on the same level as you until tonight, and you've never fought on the same level as me, so how could you have won? That's just ridiculous."

"Well, explain something to me, then?" Ralse insisted furiously, "If I didn't win, then how did I end up in charge?"

"It's because you never tried to fight me." Draco replied, still smiling, "You fought weaklings like the chancellor, but you never fought me. I'm still not going to let you get what you want. Now kill me, if you can, but I warn you; if you draw your weapon on me, it'll mean that you're ready to risk your life. I could still be talked into sparing you, but your people have paid enough for your greed, and tonight, one way or another, you'll pay for what you've done."

However, Ralse didn't hesitate at all. In only a second, he'd drawn his sword from where it had hung on his belt, and spoke to Draco viciously again.

"You're the one who's going to pay! You won't survive the night! Maria will finally have to become my queen!"

However, it seemed that Draco was tired of trading words with Ralse, because he didn't even bother replying to him. Instead, he turned to look at Maria one last time, with the same confident smile on his face, and spoke to her directly a moment later.

"Maria..." he said in what looked, amazingly, like relief, "For the rest of my life, I'll keep you near..."

However, that only seemed to have made Prince Ralse angrier, because he'd started to shout again, as if he were throwing a tantrum.

"Don't turn away from me, fool! This isn't some kind of game! It's a duel..."

In one swift motion, Ralse had charged with his blade stretched out in front of him, not moving it in the least, and at last, both swords collided hard with each other, and the two fighters started to move like lightning. Maria's eyes could barely even keep track of Ralse or Draco as they fought, and even the rebels in the leather looked stunned by the battle that was going on in front of them.

* * *

From the moment that the fight began, Draco could tell that he was going to have to be careful with Ralse. They'd never fought in person before, but it was clear that Ralse had been taught by the best trainers that money could buy, and he seemed to have a natural gift for swordplay as well. The look in his eyes never wavered as he jabbed repeatedly with his foil, twisting his blade a few centimeters left and right, in an effort to goad Draco into making a bad move. It was a normal technique, of course, but only among people who knew how to handle a foil, and that had made it obvious just how skilled Ralse was.

Soon, however, Ralse had made another move, advancing quickly with a few brief hops along the floor. It was the sort of move that forced one of them to strike, unless the other backed off, and although he wasn't sure what kind of technique Ralse was going to use next, Draco moved quickly, intercepting his first attack, then trying to lash out with his other sword. However, in that moment, Ralse performed a very odd maneuver; one that Draco had never seen in any fencing tournament. Rotating his sword with a flip of his wrist, Ralse deflected Draco's blow without lowering his guard at all, then blocked the knight's other weapon in the same manner just a moment later.

At first, Draco was stunned, because the type of sword that Ralse was using usually had a wrist guard on it, which would have prevented a move like that, but he could see that Ralse's sword had been designed without one when he looked a bit closer. It was an extremely simple maneuver, and yet, with a long foil like his, it made him very dangerous. In fact, it seemed like Ralse could deflect nearly any blow aimed at him with that technique, so in a moment, Draco decided to try something a bit more risky.

Quickly, Draco moved both of his swords at once, clamping them down over the point of Ralse's blade, but almost instantly, he'd rotated it again, and his foil just slid free, as if Draco's swords hadn't even been there. At that point, the knight knew that he'd have to move fast, because Ralse was already aiming a jab at his body.

The problem was that by slipping out of the grasp of Draco's blades, Ralse had also thrown him off-guard, sliding each of his swords off to the side. It took him a moment to recover from that momentary slip-up. In fact, he barely had enough time to move even one of his swords to block Ralse's next attack, and he needed to use his other blade to block the one after that. Ralse seemed a little disappointed that those attacks had failed, but he still looked confident, and there was no denying that his skills as a swordsman were superb. However, Draco still had one last thing to try out.

Pressing the stud on the side of his longer blade, Draco released it onto its chain, and in one swift motion, he swept it forward like a flail. It was the only weapon he had, which could outdistance Ralse's blade, and he could only hope that the prince wouldn't be expecting it.

However, those hopes were in vain. In the last moment before the chain sword had been about to hit the prince, his foil had risen up, and caught it by one part of its chain. In moments, it had gotten tangled around Ralse's sword, and he pulled it forward, with more strength than Draco would have given him credit for, still using only one hand the whole time.

Draco was horrified as he found himself being pulled towards the prince, yet unwilling to release his favorite sword in order to free himself. At last, he decided to just take advantage of the situation and charge in with his other sword while Ralse's weapon was occupied, but even that, it turned out, wasn't a perfect move, because the prince reacted to it quickly, doing something else that Draco had never seen in any fencing tournament.

In one swift move, the prince lifted one foot, and kicked aside the weapon of his enemy, knocking it to the ground and standing on it. Then, he swung his other foot around, aiming a kick at Draco's head.

However, in that move, Draco saw a weakness. The prince was just too confident, and that one time, he'd slipped up. Quickly, Draco released both of his swords and grabbed Ralse's boot. For a moment, it seemed that the prince was trying to whip his own sword around and finish his enemy, but he just couldn't do it fast enough, and by the time he got his sword free, Draco had started pushing his leg upward, throwing him off-balance. Ralse looked terrified by that point, because he must have known he'd made a mistake, but it seemed that he'd never fought anyone quite like Draco before. In only a moment, he'd fallen to the ground, and Draco's foot came down on the blade of his foil.

At that point in the fight, though, Draco started to feel something a bit like pity for the wicked prince who'd caused them all such misery, and although he'd sworn to make Ralse pay for all the lives he'd taken, he really was a fantastic swordsman, and would have made a worthy ally, if only he'd taken the opportunity to repent and try to do right by others. For a few moments, Draco paused, hoping that Ralse might surrender, or at least talk to him a little more, but that, it seemed, wasn't meant to be.

In a flash, Prince Ralse had pulled something from within the folds of his coat, and flung it at the knight in one lightning maneuver. However, Draco moved as fast as he could, ducking back away from the object, until he heard the sound of it digging into a nearby wall, and realized that whatever it was, it must have been sharper than a knife. That, he decided, was the last straw.

Quickly, Draco righted himself and drove his fist down into Ralse's face, then delivered a quick blow to his wrist as well, with the same motion. It was the first time that the prince had actually been hit during that fight, and it had clearly weakened him. In a moment, Sir Draco had taken advantage of that weakness to kick his weapon across the room, and stepping right over the prince, moved to pick up his own swords again.

The prince was struggling to his feet again by the time Draco got his weapons back, but it was too late for him to retrieve his own sword anymore. It was yet another opportunity for that royal brat to surrender, but something was truly wrong with him in that respect.

It seemed as if Prince Ralse had never tried to justify his actions by honoring any code of conduct, so he must have had a feeling of guilt that was as deep as the ocean; a feeling that he could only ignore by reminding himself that he had the power to get whatever he desired. In fact, he'd apparently based his whole self-worth on that power; that near-omnipotence, and to someone like that, losing would have seemed like a fate worse than death.

Almost instantly, the prince had pulled a series of light throwing daggers from his coat, holding them between his fingers for a moment before hurling them in a volley at the knight, but Sir Draco wasn't about to be beaten by any weapon that couldn't change direction in mid-attack. In one single motion, he'd used his chain sword to knock every last one of those knives to the floor, then drove sideways with his other weapon, just as Ralse was rushing for his foil, and swept it around in a wide arc. For a few moments after that, everything seemed to be outlined in a hue of red.

* * *

To Maria, the whole fight seemed to have taken no more than fifteen seconds. It had all happened so fast, in fact, that at first, she wasn't even sure who'd won. However, her doubts and fears had soon begun to evaporate, leaving behind only a feeling of hope and encouragement, in spite of the fact that another dead man was lying on the floor of the dance hall; his head completely separated from the rest of him.

Quickly, Maria rushed up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him again, feeling almost overwhelmed with relief, though she didn't really feel like smiling in the midst of all that bloodshed. Even Draco wasn't smiling as he looked down at the body of his defeated foe, though Maria suspected that his feelings were a bit different.

Of course, the ones who were really upset were Prince Ralse's friends; who he always invited to those dances with him. None of the other people dancing that night had been lords or ladies of the kingdom; just personal friends of that one man who'd used his influence to dominate their whole country so completely. Fortunately, they weren't fighters, and seemed to realized that, because they were keeping their distance from Draco very carefully, though many of them looked at him with fury in their eyes. He didn't seem to care what they thought of him, though. In fact, he wasn't even glancing at them. As soon as he'd turned away from Prince Ralse, there was only one person who he bothered to look at.

"It would be unseemly to discuss my feelings in this place of death." Maria explained as quickly as she could, but Draco clearly understood how she felt, because in just a moment, he'd led her out of the dance hall and down the stairs beyond, with one of his men proceeding in front of him, and the other bringing up the rear. Still, the moment that Draco had made it out into the courtyard, where the rest of his men were standing, having seemingly won their battle as well, Maria knew that she had to talk to her beloved about how she really felt.

"Oh, Draco!" Maria almost shouted in joy, though she still didn't smile, "I'm so relieved. You're... I mean, I always believed you'd come and save us before things got too bad, and now... I mean, now that you're here, and with Ralse gone, things will finally get back to normal. My father's been getting weaker every day, but once we're married, we'll be the new king and queen of the west, and then... and then..."

However, although Maria had been excited by the idea at first, when she said those words aloud, she'd begun to realize that her plan didn't really solve any of their problems.

"Then what?" Draco asked, frowning openly by that point, "I still love you more than anyone, and I still want us to be husband and wife, if you'll have me. I guess you're right; that'll probably make me the legitimate King of the West, but I think you know that Prince Ralse wasn't our only problem. Right now, there are three Eastern armies converging on Garou, and they're going to reclaim it sooner or later. Their power in this part of the kingdom has been shaken, and that gives us a chance to plan out our next move, but we're definitely not out of danger yet. Even if we do reclaim the West some day, there's still one more problem to think about."

"King Fannis is going to want you dead for killing his son." Maria realized aloud, as savvy as ever, in spite of her purity of heart.

"Yes." Draco admitted, looking away slowly, "He'll be outraged by what I did. He'll take it personally, and he's going to whip his generals into a horrible rage while he's trying to hunt me down."

At that point, a grim feeling was creeping up over Maria again. It would have been a lie to say that she felt as bad as she had before. Just having Draco there with her was enough to prevent that, but it certainly wasn't the kind of reunion she'd hoped for.

"Still, there might be opportunities, even in that." Draco continued a moment later, though for the moment, he wasn't daring to look his beloved in the eye, "Fannis made many enemies during the war, and I'll need to continue searching for them, and recruiting as best I can. It's not going to be easy to overthrow his tyranny or rebuild the West, but I'm sure that if we all give it our best effort, it will happen eventually."

It took Maria a few moments to really digest those words, but at last, she started to feel a lot more confident when she replied a moment later.

"I never wanted to live in wartime." Maria admitted aloud to her beloved, "I know I never said it aloud, but what I always wanted was for us to have a peaceful life together; to rule the West together from this castle, and go down to the flower garden every day, just to talk and surround ourselves with all those colors and smells; maybe even bring the kids down with us. Those were the things I always thought about whenever I dreamed of the two of us being together."

At that point, Maria paused for a moment, though she hoped that Draco wouldn't get the wrong impression before she had the chance to continue.

"I don't want that anymore, though." Maria continued, finally smiling as she took Draco's thin gauntlets in her own hands, "I love those flowers, and this castle, and all the beautiful dresses I always wore, but if it keeps me from you, it's all empty. Let's go out into the countryside and hide in the woods. Let's live in tents, dress in rags, and hunt for food and water. I don't care. As long as we're together, it'll be my paradise."

Maria knew that in just a few moments, they'd all have to flee the castle, and face the greatest challenge of their lives. They'd have to fight against both nature and armies of well-armed enemies just to survive, and most likely, they'd lose even more friends on their journey, and face horror and tragedy once again, but in that moment, Draco and Maria were in each other's arms, each loving the other even more than they loved themselves, and that, after all, was where the story of life itself always began; at that union of compassion known as true love.

* * *

The End


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